


The Island

by Avalon1632



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 60,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7367194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avalon1632/pseuds/Avalon1632
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the cruise-ship Max and her family are on sinks, they are presumed dead. A week later, William Price dies in a car crash. Chloe sinks further than the cruise-ship ever could. Until, 5 years later, Max is discovered to have survived on a deserted island. After being brought back home, Max is distant and all Chloe wants to do is help. Little does she know, Max brought back far more from that Island than nightmares. For those who don't get the blatant references, this is inspired by the comic hero, Green Arrow, particularly the TV Series version.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prodigal Daughter Returns

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hey fan-fic-folks. So, there’s no Blackwell Job this week, I’m in a bit of a writer’s block with that story, so instead I’m doing the Amazon effect and releasing a whole bunch of ‘Pilots’ for my other stories. This one is called The Island. 
> 
> It’s based a little on the TV version of Green Arrow, mainly the TV series. For those of you who don’t know, in the series, the Green Arrow was an ex-playboy who was marooned on an Island after his dad’s yacht sank and got taught how to fight using a Bow and Arrow. When he was rescued, he came back home and started fighting crime as the ‘Green Arrow’. It’s not half bad. I figured I could use it as an alternate thing for why Max was gone for 5 years and then this happened. 
> 
> Anyways. The plan for these is I'm gonna give 'em a week or two to sit around so I can see which ones, if any, you like. I'll probably end up continuing most of them, but if any stand out I'll prioritise those the most. If it turns out I've written utter unprocessed bovine waste, I'll probably just stick to the Blackwell Job and rework a couple of these to retry later. If not, I'll pick a few and stick them in the schedule on my profile. I know that's not really how its done, but I need structure or I will procrastinate till I die. So yeah, here's the first chapter of The Island.
> 
> Thanks, Fan-fic-folks and as always, please review.

“Gah!” I flailed wildly and nearly fell off the bed when someone shook me awake. Fuck, I hate being woken up. 

Mom was yelling in my ear, the bitch. Why did she have to wake me up so damn early? “Wake up, Chloe! We’ve got to get to the hospital!”

I woke up pretty quickly then. After what happened the last time she yelled at me about a hospital, no way I could doze through that. “The hospital? What the fuck happened?”

That was when I saw her face. I’d never seen her smile that wide. Well, not since Dad died, anyway. Why the hell was she happy we were going to a hospital?

“It’s Max, Chloe. They found her.”

Holy. Shit.

\-----

I spent the entire car journey jittering about hella nervously. The Caulfields had won some luxury cruise from Ryan’s boss 5 years ago. When we heard their ship sank, I thought I’d never see my first mate again. 

Now they’d found her, I had no fucking clue what to expect. She’d been marooned for five fucking years on some chinese island. I mean, what can you say to someone who’s been through shit like that?

All I knew was that I was gonna hug the shit outta her when I saw her.

The minute Joyce parked, I basically dragged her out of the car, through the hospital door and up to the reception desk. No way in hell I was gonna be in here any longer than I had to. I’d been in the hospital for like, 2 minutes and I was already starting to feel stuff. 

I’d not been back since Dad, so I was hella nervous. There’s all those memories in here. I was trying not to think about it. Fuck, I hate hospitals…

Joyce pulled away from me and walked up to the receptionist, introducing herself and asking for Max. I hung back. I was really fucking antsy from being here and we learnt last time that yelling at Hospital People always makes shit worse. 

Who says I never learn?

“Hi, we’re here to see Maxine Caulfield?”

Mom pulls out a bunch of papers she’d grabbed before we left. “I’m Joyce Price. I’m Max’s Godmother. Her folks wanted someone close to look after her in case anythin’...” Mom sagged.

Shit.

She pulled herself back up and slid the papers over to the receptionist. “Here’s all the paperwork. Can we see her soon?”

“I don’t know, Mrs Price. Depends on the Doctor’s opinion.”

She types some shit in her computer. 

Then some more.

Then some more.

And more.

I growled. Bitch was not making this whole waiting thing easy, was she? I was concentrating really, really hard on not letting all the little thoughts whispering about in my head get to me and she’s typing?

Just when I was about to like, rip her head off or something, she nodded. “This all checks out. She’s in room 303. Doctor Baltar’s office is just across from the elevator. Talk to him when you’re up there.”

“Alright, thanks, now come on! Let’s go, Mom!”

Joyce just rolled her eyes and followed as I rushed off to the elevators.

\-----

The doctor flicked off the X-Ray light thingy and turned to look at us.

“I have to warn you, the Max you knew may not be the Max they found surviving on that island. Twenty per-cent of her body is covered in scar tissue. Second degree burns on her back and arms. X-rays show she has at least twelve fractures that never properly healed.”

Shit… I looked through the glass at Max. She was just staring out the window. What the fuck happened to you out there, first mate?

Joyce put her hand on my shoulder and nodded. “When can we go in?”

The Doc seemed nervous. “For the moment, we think it better only one of you goes in. We want to reduce her stress for now.”

I shrugged Mom’s hand off and stepped towards the door, completely ignoring everyone else. I had to fucking see her. Ask what the fuck happened. Ask why she never came back.

I pushed open the door. 

“Max…?”

She turns to look at me. She looks… tired. 

“Chloe…?”

I grin and sweep her up in a hug. Max doesn’t react for a sec, but then smiles and hugs me back. I wasn’t crying, honest. I’m too badass for that shit.

“I know, right? So much for Maxine Caulfield, Mighty PirateTM”

I choked back a sob. “Mighty PirateTM...? Goddamnit Max.”

She tightened the hug.

\-----

After a HELLA lot more paperwork, we managed to get Max busted and back to the Price-Pad. Now her folks were… gone, she could move in with us! 

We didn’t have like, a spare room or anything, so Mom wanted to stick her on a camping bed in Step-Douche’s garage.

I was half gonna go with it, just so he couldn’t use the room anymore, but no fucking way I’d do that to Max. She was gonna room with me. Readjust to society and all that shit, right?

Max barely said a word the whole car journey back, just nodded and ‘mmhmm’-ing whenever Joyce or I asked her something directly. It was weird. She was quiet before, but never this fucking quiet. 

That, and all those scars…? Something definitely happened out there. Something bad.

When we got back, Mom took Max’s stuff straight upstairs. It was weird, Max was the only girl who could be marooned on a fucking island for 5 years and come back with luggage.

As she walked through the door, I chipped in. “So, the place hasn’t changed much since you were here. All that home improvement shit Dad had planned never fucking happened.”

She nodded, then wandered over to the picture board in the hall. I smiled. “Those were the good old days, huh? Life… isn’t so good anymore. Better now you’re back though, right?”

Max smiled absently and moved into the kitchen, tapping at a photo on the fridge of Mom in front of the diner. I grinned. “Yeah, Mom’s still at the Two Whales making the best burgers in Arcadia. We’ll have to go soon. If my math is right, it’s been about 1800 days since you had one of Mom’s burgers, so the first round is on me!”

I thought back to my pockets. 86 cents… Probably not enough to get a fucking cocktail stick, never mind a burger. Eh. I’ll work it out.

She turned to look at the travel jar. Mom and David wanted to go on some honeymoon trip to Paris, but there’s no way a security guard and a waitress could afford that. They’d been saving up, but fuck, they’d be lucky to get to Portland with what they had, never mind fucking Paris.

She walked past it and out into the main room. I watched her walk, frowning a bit. She walked differently. Like a cat stalking its dinner. It was half epic, half scary to watch. Just made me wonder what the hell happened even more. 

She ran her hand along the back of the couch. I decided to give the ‘reaching out’ thing another go. Why not, right?

“Remember when we used to pretend this thing was a pirate ship? Hella fun times.”

She smiled, hella absently again. It was like she was on autopilot or something. Just sitting there in her head a thousand miles away from me. I fucking hated it. 

I looked down to the little black patch sticking out from under the sofa.

“We never did clean that stain up, did we? I still can’t fucking believe you spilled like, half the damn bottle.”

I smirked. “Mom was hella pissed.”

As Max wandered off to look at something else, Mom came downstairs and into the kitchen, calling out to us. “Hey girls, I’m just about to start cooking lunch. You sticking around?”

I looked over to Max. She was still staring at a picture on the wall of Step-douche standing on some deer he hunted. Asshole. “Sure, Mom. Like we’d ever refuse free noms.”

She laughed. “Well, Max’s things are all set up in your room. Go get her settled in.”

I nodded. “Sure. Come on, Max.”

We didn’t really do much. I just kinda sat around on my bed and chattered while she put her shit away in the drawers I’d cleared out for her. She was still hella quiet. 

Even when I made a hella good joke about wanting a “My friend was a castaway and all I got was this crappy shirt” shirt.

Yeesh. Talk about a hella hard room, right?

\-----

After about half an hour of just quietly sitting around, Joyce calls from downstairs. “Hey girls! Come and get it!”

I turned and grinned at Max, hopping up off the bed. “Come on, Maxie. Let’s eat!”

Max rolled her eyes and followed me as I clomped downstairs in my huge-ass boots. Sure, today was a good day, but it’s always better when I can annoy step-douche. He hated my boots. 

Speaking of Step-Douche, he was already sat at the table when me and Max got downstairs. We took our seats and I started chattering. What? I was hella nervous. My best friend just came back from the dead, I mean, that’s not exactly something that happens every-fucking-day, is it? 

“So...” I started. “What did you miss…? Uh…”

I clicked my fingers. 

“Well, we got a Black President, that’s new. He’s hella awesome. Dances on TV and everything. You’d probably like him. Um, what else..?”

Mom came over with the food, dropping a plate full of noms in front of each of us. “Dig in, everybody. There’s more if you want it.”

I immediately launched into eating. We went straight to the hospital after Mom woke me up, so I hadn’t actually eaten anything and I was hella hungry.

Max just watched me with a little smile. It was way more here than all the others. Hella awesomesauce. I grinned at her. “Betcha missed this, Max. No kitchen on the Island, huh?”

Max smiled and nodded. “No friends, either.”

I kinda didn’t wanna ask, but at the same time I kinda did. The kinda-want camp won out. “So… What was it like there?”

Mom and the Douche’s conversation just stopped as we all looked at Max. She looked thoughtfully for a second, before focusing on me. “Cold.”

There was a sort of awkward beat for a second where everyone kinda thanked fuck she didn’t flip out or anything before I decided to fill the quiet. I hate quiet. 

“Oh!” I mumbled with a mouth full of food. “Turns out everyone on Lost was dead… Or something. It was hella weird.”

Max smiled. It was all absent again. I tried not to be pissed, really I did. But I couldn’t help feel a bit ticked off that my best friend just got back and would barely talk to me. I sighed and started gnawing on my steak.

I could hear Step-Prick growl. “Chloe. Have some fucking manners.”

I rolled my eyes. “Free country, dude. Lay off.”

Then Mom jumped on the bandwagon, on his fucking side, as usual. “Chloe! Be polite to your step-father.”

I slammed down my cutlery. “Jeez, I can’t do anything right around here without everyone getting up in my shit, can I?”

We all launched into another all-out fucking argument, all of us just yelling at each other. This shit was why I didn’t eat with them very often. I thought they’d keep it down if Max was here, but apparently not...

As I heard my door upstairs bang shut, I realised Max had left quietly. We all shut up and just stared at her empty chair. “Well, shit.”

\-----

I took a deep breath and knocked on her door. Well, my door. Whatever. “Max? You ok?”

…

Nothing. I pushed the door open. “Hey, Max, I’m sorry about Step-Douche. He was way outta fucking line, he just…”

I stopped. 

The room was empty. What the hell?

I looked over to the window. My desk was totally cleared and the window was wide open. 

Shit.


	2. Admission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, well… Howdy y’all. Long time no see. I’d love to say I was writing all that time, but I wasn’t. I got some hideous illness and basically spent about a week and a half there just alternating between crying in a corner and trying to stop vomiting. It wasn’t fun, and definitely didn’t put me in the mood to write, or read. So, I’m a little rusty. These chapters are a little shorter to help me ease back into the game and hopefully keep up the weekly schedule again. 
> 
> On that note, I’m really not sure what my plan is anymore. Before I got sick, I had a full chapter for each story, but I wasn’t happy with them and felt I didn’t do the idea justice, so I deleted pretty much all of them in a fit of pique. So, those stories are on hold for now while I work out what the fuck I’m doing with them. The current plan is to keep going with the 5 I have posted until they’re done and upload the others when I finally get a chapter I like. But, that’s pretty flexible for now, so don’t hold me to that. I might change my mind.
> 
> Well, the rustiness means I’m not really sure how good these chapters are. I’m probably being insecure and hating on my work again, but I’m pretty sure these aren’t up to my usual standard. I hope they are, but I don’t think they are. It’s a weird feeling. I’ve mostly just decided “Fuck it, I’ll let you guys decide as usual.” So, please, let me know if these are shit or not. And be honest, if I’ve fucked up, I’d like to fix it. Constructive Criticism is the only way to know what to focus on for improvement, right? 
> 
> Anyways, thanks, fan-fic-folks, and, as always, please review.

I heard the door click closed and immediately sat up to see Max fucking creeping into my… our room. Still weird to say after all these years.

I mean, she’s fucking alive!

I growl. But not after I’m fucking done with her.

“What the fuck time do you call this? Where the fuck were you, Max?”

I pause for a sec, staring open-mouthed at her, before dropping my head into my hands. “Oh my fucking god, I sound like step-douche…”

“I was out.” She looks down at the floor. “Sorry, Chloe. For making you worry. It was just… uncomfortable.”

My shoulder sag and I don’t feel as pissed off anymore. Damn it. I grin. “We never could stay angry with each other, huh?”

She smiles back. “Never ever, Captain.” She sags a little and rolls her shoulders and neck. “I’m tired, Chlo. Can we go to sleep?”

I grin and wiggle my eyebrows. “Sure thing, grandma. You wanna be the big spoon?”

She laughs and sinks down onto the left side of the bed. “I’ll take this side. Night Chlo.”

“Night Max.”

\-----

I wake up to the sound of thunder and screaming.

“What the shit…?” I wipe at my eyes.

“Oh, fuck.” Max was in the middle of a nightmare and I had no fucking clue what to do.

Do I wake her up? Do I leave her alone? Fuck if I know.

I reach out and shake her shoulder. “Max! Max! Wake up!”

Well, more like “Wake U…” because she grabs my hand and fucking flips me halfway through the word, slamming a hand into my throat. Her eyes are open now, just staring blankly off past me.

I just yell in her face, hoping she’ll let go. “Max! Wake the fuck up!”

She blinks at me for a moment. I don’t think she even recognises me.

Then it clicks and she backs away from me into the corner, curling up into a ball like a fucking cornered animal. “I’m sorry. Dog, I’m so sorry Chloe.”

I put my hand up to my throat, taking as hella deep breaths as I can to try get some fucking air in my lungs. It’s harder than I thought. Fuck, Max really hits hard now. “It’s ok, Max. Seriously. You’ve been through some shit, right?”

I laugh, and it sounds fake, even to me. “Besides, you just fucking flipped me, it was so cool! You gotta teach me how to do that shit, ok?”

She doesn’t smile back.

“Seriously, Chloe. I’m really sorry. I just…” She sighs, pauses for a second.

I nod and interrupt her. Shit, when I can see she ain’t ready to talk about it, you know she definitely isn’t ready. No fucking way I’m gonna force her to. “I get it. Bad dream. Don’t sweat it, Maxipad.”

I stick my hand out for a hella awesome brofist. “Still best friends?”

She smiles. “Always.”

\-----

"Aargh!" I reach over and slam my hand down on the snooze button of my alarm. Fucking noisy fucking thing fucking waking me the fuck up. Aargh.

"Good to see some things never change." I roll over to see Max smirking at me from my desk chair. I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, fuzzball."

I roll out of bed and land on the floor with a thud. "Ow."

I feel a hand settle under my shoulder and pull me up off the floor. "Come on, Chlo. I need breakfast."

I slump a little when she moves away again. Shit, I really fucking hate mornings. I waft at her. "Fine. Ok. Awesomesauce. Just let me get my shit on." I yawn and stretch out, trying to crack my back.

I head over to my fashion hole and pull on a tank top and crowbar myself into some jeans. "Have you seen my...?"

She waves over at the door. "Your shoes are over there."

"Booyah. Thanks, Maximilian." I pull on my boots and lace 'em up. "And done. All ready for noms."

We head downstairs to find Mom is already up. Of-fucking-course. Pretty sure she's up at the crack of fucking dawn. "Morning, girls. You ready to eat?"

Max smiles. "Chloe is always ready to eat, Joyce."

I shrug. "True."

Mom rolls her eyes. "Well, what can I get you both then? Any requests?"

I turn to Max. "You missed Mom's cooking for five years, so your choice, first mate."

Max thinks for a second. "Bacon and Eggs please, Joyce."

Mom grins. "Comin' right up. You just sit down at the table and I'll bring it over."

We head over to the table and sit down next to each other. Step-douche was already sat on the other side, reading the paper and neither of us was gonna sit next to that asshole.

A few minutes of silence later and mom heads over with the plates. "Here we are. 4 Price Specials."

Max smiles. "Thank you Joyce."

I don't. I just dig in. Then, I slow down, noticing Max and Step-douche are both staring at me expectantly. "Fnkx Jyce." I mumble, mouth full of delicious noms. What? I don't want any of it to fall out.

Mom rolls her eyes. "Incorrigible as ever, Chloe." She sits down next to step-douche and starts eating. Those two start chatting about shit, but Max and I just sit in silence, eating. It wasn't awkward though, we were just both concentrating on eating.

Then Mom just has to cough and start fucking talking. “You know, Max. Now you’re back, it’d be a good idea to get back into School. Blackwell Academy has a great photography course, if you’re still interested in that.”

She waves over at David. “And David works there, so he could put in a word.”

Step-douche nods. I roll my eyes. "Fucking hell, Mom, she's just got back from being stuck on a fucking island a couple days ago, is it really a good idea to just throw her into fucking Blackwell?"

She nods. "Actually, yes. The doctor recommends this sorta thing."

Step-douche kicks up too. "Your mother is right. Getting back into life really helped after I came back from Iraq."

I shrug and look at Max. "Up to you first mate. You ready for Blackhell?"

She frowns for a second, then gives another awkward smile. "I think so."

\------

“So… Maxine, isn’t it?”

Principal Wells sat there, pretty determined to ignore me poking about his office shelves and focus on Mom and Max, who were sat in front of his big-ass desk.

This asshole’s office was just as tacky as I remembered.

“Max. Never Maxine.”

I grinned. So there is still a bit of the old Max in there. Awesomesauce.

“Max, then. So, you want to come to Blackwell?”

She nods. “Yes sir.”

He frowns, writes something down. “We don’t usually take students this late. You’d have a lot of work to catch up on.”

Max shrugs. “I’ll get it done.”

The frown disappears, replaced by a smile. “An admirable attitude, Max. So, it says here you’d like to study photography?”

“Yes sir.”

The frown was back. I rolled my eyes. Fucking hell, Max. He doesn’t like the short as fuck answers, say something more.

“Mr Jefferson was a hero of mine, before…”

She smiled, absently. “Before the island.”

He nods, writes in the file again. They spend another few minutes talking about Max’s plans for the future and all that shit. Dull stuff, but if it gets her in, I guess.

“Well, based on the portfolio you submitted” He gives an awkward smile. “And your clear motivation, I think Blackwell would be foolish to pass you up. There’s some paperwork I’ll need Mrs Madsen to sign, but we will definitely be offering you a full scholarship here.”

Max smiles. It’s a small smile, but it’s definitely there. “Thank you, Sir.”

He slides a piece of paper over to Max. "Welcome to Blackwell Academy, Max.”


	3. Hunter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> Long time no see. You’ll be delighted to know I spent the last two weeks ever so productively and am pretty close to actually uploading my inkshares stories. If you’re interested, here’s a brief summary of the two stories I’m currently working on. 
> 
> Much Ado about Everything:  
> The story of Etienne Olivier, renowned actor and utter asshole. When his troupe finally gets tired of his dickish behaviour, they fire him and blacklist him in the industry. He loses everything, ending up on the street. He turns to con artistry to eat and turns out to be good at it, but he’s always looking for a way back to the stage. One day, he sees a group of people in the marketplace, talking to a crowd about honour and justice and freedom from tyranny and, being the cynical prick he is, immediately concludes it can’t be genuine and that they must be actors. He tries to butt in with a pretty stirring speech mostly stolen from various plays he’s written or acted in over the years. Turns out, the ‘actors’ were actually rebels trying to incite the crowd against a tyrannical empire that conquered the city and his little speech turns the tide. He gets caught up in the fight and basically blunders and bluffs his way into being viewed as the hero of the conflict. When they win, the rebels induct him into their leadership. The rest of the story is just him trying to keep the act going, because if they find out, the rebels will kill him and if he leaves, the Empire will kill him. So, what’s an actor turned rebel leader to do? 
> 
> Guardians of Dreamworld:  
> When you enter the Land of Dreams, all that you believe is real, becomes real. Nightmares are creatures that take the form of the Dreamer’s fears in order to feed on them. The Guardians are an ancient order that exist to protect Dreamers from the Nightmares. For a thousand years, there have been no sightings, until Arda comes along. Arda is the great grand-daughter of a legendary Guardian hero and she’s the newest initiate. When she is sent into the Dreamworld on her Rite of Bonding to find her first youngling, she finds it being attacked by a nightmare. Through sheer luck, she fends it off and completes the Rite. When she returns, nobody believes her. After all, everyone knows they’ve been gone for centuries. So, she decides to find proof. The rest of the story is her unravelling the existence of the nightmares and what brought them back. 
> 
> So, if you like the sound of either story, both links will appear in my profile and in whichever update on here occurs after I post them to inkshares. I know links on here are iffy, but I think I finally have a method that will work. 
> 
> Oh, on another bright note, after a year of repeating my A-Levels, I finally made it into uni for a BSc in Psychology! That’s most of the reason this update is so late. Thursday was mostly spent working out all sorts of Uni stuff, so this kinda fell behind. I’m still putting some finishing touches on The Blackwell Job, so that will be uploaded later tomorrow (Sunday the 21st).  
> This chapter is inspired by two things. 
> 
> Firstly, Hanna, a movie I watched last week. If you haven’t seen it and you enjoy action movies, you’ll probably enjoy it. It’s different enough to be interesting. 
> 
> Secondly, the all-time classic The Princess Bride. It’s one of my favourite movies ever made and I thoroughly recommend it to anyone of any age. It’s phenomenally funny and phenomenally well done and acted. 
> 
> For any of you who are wondering, we’ll be heading to School in the next chapter. I just wanted one more to kind of develop Max and Chloe a little more. 
> 
> So thanks for reading fan-fic-folks and, as always, please review.

“Uuurgh. Fckn Mrnngs…”

I roll over and try to block the light shining at me. “Maaaax, make it stop!”

…

“..Max?”

I roll over and crack open my eyes. The room was empty and the window was open.

Shit. 

I didn’t even bother with my boots, I just raced downstairs to find Joyce. “Mom? Max?”

She was sat down on the couch reading. She looked up at me when I stormed in. “Chloe? What’s wrong?”

“I woke up and Max was gone. Is she down here?”

“I haven’t seen her, kid. I thought you two were sleepin’ in. Ya sure she didn’t just go to the bathroom?”

I scowled at her. “Yeah, Mom. I’m sure she didn’t just…”

Actually… “One sec.”

I ran up and checked. “Nope. She’s not fucking there either, Mom!”

Even Mom was getting panicked now. ‘Bout fucking time, really. My best friend was missing! Again! “Well, where on earth is she?”

“I haven’t a fucking clue! The window’s open, so maybe she’s outside?”

Mom frowned. “Where would she go? Maybe Blackwell?”

I shrugged. “Like I said, no fucking clue. Maybe.”

She nodded a couple times, probably to herself more than me. “Ok then. I’ll go see if I can find the school’s number, maybe call David too. They might have seen her.” She reached out a hand to stop me pacing all over the place. “Don’t worry, Chlo, we’ll find her.”

She headed upstairs and I basically just stomped around the room some more. It was kinda cathartic. 

\-----

A couple minutes later, Max saunters through the back door, carrying something over her shoulder. Whatever it is, it fucking STINKS…

I rush over and hug the shit out of her. It was either that or fucking hit her and I saw the muscles on my first mate before, so no way I’m doing that. “Where the hell have you been?”

She tenses slightly when I hug her and when I let go, she taps a rope attached to whatever's behind her. “I found lunch.”

I peer over her and… My jaw drops. “What.”

She had three rabbits and a fucking pheasant over her back. I just stare at them, then her, then them again. “What.”

She frowns, then speaks slowly at me. “Lunch. Midday meal?”

I do hit her then, just lightly on the shoulder. By the look on her face and the pain in my fist, it hurt me more than it hurt her, Holy fucking OW! I use my badassitude to hide all that and just grimace. “I know what lunch is, dumbass. I meant the fucking animals you’ve got over shoulder. Where the fuck did you get them? Did you fucking hunt them or something”

She nods. I look her over for a gun or a bow or something. I don’t see anything. “With WHAT?”

She smiles. “With style and grace, Chloe. They’re a thank you for letting me stay here.”

Wow… Max’s gift-giving got hella weirder… “Um… thank you?”

She grinned. It was a real grin, not the blank ones she’d been giving us up till now. “Anytime, Chloe.”

That was when Mom came back in. “It’s ok, Chloe… I found the number for… Oh, Max!”

She runs up to Max and sweeps her up in a hug, frowning when she sees the rabbits and pheasant. “Uh, Max…? What in hell are you doing with those?”

“They’re for lunch, Joyce.”

A lifetime as a waitress in a trucker-stop diner and a cop for a husband meant Mom had seen pretty much everything. I’d never seen her lost for words. Until now.

Max waited for a couple of seconds for Mom to respond. When she didn’t Max just sidestepped her and headed into the kitchen, leaving me and Mom just sort of staring at each other slack-jawed. “I’ll make lunch.”

We just stood there until Max called back to us. “Sit down, I won’t be long!”

I looked at Mom. She looked at me. We both sat down.

\-----

Max got the food cooked hella quickly and surprisingly well. Mom even complimented her on how well it was all done. Max shrugged. “When you’re eating the same things every day, you learn to get creative.”

We alternated between chatting and silence for most of the meal. Mostly we just concentrated on the food. It was fucking delicious. Max was gonna have to cook more often. 

I was halfway through a bite when… “Chloe?”

I swallowed and looked over at her. “Yeah, Max?”

“Can we go drive around town, please? I wanna see it again.”

I shrugged. “Sure, I can give you the nickel tour.” I looked hopefully over at her. “After noms?”

She snorted and smiled. “Sure, Chloe. After noms.”

Awesomesauce. And turns out, she meant right after noms because as soon as we were finished eating, we were out the door and in my truck. 

“So, where do you wanna go first?”

She answered instantly. “The diner.”

I grinned and gunned the truck. “Your wish is my command.”

Long story short, I took her to all the sites. The Diner, Blackhell (We had to leave when Step-Douche ‘took an interest’. Asshole.), the library and a whole bunch of other places… We even went past our old treehouse. Max stayed pretty quiet and I did too. It was kinda weird and hella uncomfortable. 

We ended up at the lighthouse, sitting on the shitty little bench and staring out over the bay. Max was still quiet and it was really starting to fucking get to me. I was just about to say something to fill the quiet when Max suddenly started talking.

“So. David’s a real asshole, isn’t he?”

Understatement of the fucking year, Maximus… “Yeah. Step-douche found his bitch-switch hella early and has a fucking turbo that switches on whenever I’m in the fucking room. Prick.”

She smiled. “Interesting way of putting it. I agree though. How do you deal with him?”

I shrugged. “Mostly by bitching back. Anything he can do, I can do fucking better.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Annie get your gun? Really?”

Huh? I looked at her. “What?”

She snorted. “Nothing. Seems like you need a new method.”

I shrug and grin. “Maybe not, but it’s hella fun.”

She rolls her eyes and stares off into the distance, back to being quiet again. Fucking great. 

\-----

I throw out my arms like a tour guide and give Max a bow. “Welcome to American Rust, my home away from hell.”

She laughed and followed me in. “I thought you were punk now, not steampunk.”

I shrugged. “I like this place. It’s just as rusted as the rest of this shithole, it just doesn’t hide anything.”

Well. That got… honest. “And it’s quiet. Arguing is hella fun, but it’s kinda loud, too. Nice to have some quiet when it gets too much, y’know?”

Ok, stopping talking now… I stuck my hands in my pockets and wandered over to one of the cars lying about the place and took a seat on the hood. 

“So, have you thought about trying to be nice to David?”

I stared at her. “Nice to step-douche? Are you fucking crazy?”

She snorted. “Probably. Not the point though. David is a soldier, right? He wants respect. If you give it to him, he’ll be a lot easier on you.”

I frown. “But he’s an asshole. No fucking way am I gonna play nice with that prick!”

We glare and bicker about it for a sec before I roll my eyes and stand up, stalking around the junkyard, looking for what I need. I picked up two sticks and came back, tossing one to her. “How about we decide this like pirates?”

She twirled the stick experimentally, looking slightly unsure. “You win, I play nice. I win, we make his life fucking hell until you move out. Deal?”

I held up my stick in front of me like a fencing sword. “You ready?”

She grinned, taking a flamboyant bow and readying her ‘sword’. “Whether I am or not, you’ve been more than fair.”

I snorted, picking up on the reference. She laughed. I might have been a bit unsporting in taking advantage of that, but I hella wanted to win!

She parried and tried to stick me in the gut, but I hopped backwards, dodging it and came back at her. She dodged my swipe at her legs by backing up onto a car. I followed her up, keeping the fight going. I put on a fucking awful spanish accent. “Ah, you’re using Bonetti’s defence against me, huh?”

She shrugged, falling into Westley’s confident voice. “I thought it fitting, considering the rocky terrain.”

I duck under an upper swipe from her and take a stab at her right leg, which she blocks easily. “Naturally, you must expect me to attack with Capa Ferro.”

She smiles and swipes at my legs again. “Naturally. But I find Tybil’s usually cancels out Capa Ferro, don’t you?”

“Unless the enemy hasn’t studied his Agrippa. Which I have.” I twirl and block a sneaky hit from her, then whirl around again to try break her block. It fails, but she has to back down off the cars and I’m hella happy to be on more solid ground again. Well, for about a second anyways, then Max comes at me swinging again and I’m back to fighting.

We parry and cut and thrust around the junkyard, hopping over cars and dodging around piles of boxes and shit. It’s fucking awesome. 

I put my accent back on and exclaim “You are wonderful!” as she hits me with a flurry of cuts and thrusts I barely manage to block. 

She nods calmly, completely indifferent to my frantic blocking. “Thank you, I’ve worked hard to become so.”

My grin gets bigger as I flail about. “I admit it, you are better than I am.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because I know something you don’t know.” She scores a hit on my knee and it hurts like fuck. I narrowly miss her ribs and she raps hard on my shoulder. 

She smiles, knowing exactly what was gonna happen next. We’d seen this scene a hundred times. “And what is that?”

“I am not left-handed!” I shouted dramatically and tossed my ‘sword’ into my other hand, starting to push Max harder. She buckled under my assault and retreated backwards up the little hill towards the ship.

“You’re amazing!” She exclaimed, grinning. I guess we both really were having hella fun with this. Just like old times. 

I shrug, nonchalantly. “I ought to be, after twenty years!”

With a final push, I shove her up against the wall the plank to the ship was leaning on, making like I’m gonna push her over. She looks me in the eye and all deadpan seriousness, says “There’s something I ought to tell you.”

I grin, knowing what was coming and hella wanting it to happen. “Tell me.”

She laughed and pushed me away from her. “I’m not left handed either!”

Max grinned and started fighting back harder, twirling and blocking and all sorts. I ducked under a swipe that went too high and scampered across the plank to the ship, taking a stance on it’s deck. When Max followed, I started fighting back more desperately. Maybe she’d practised on the island or something because she actually was better than she used to be. And I really wanted to win this. 

I managed to clip her ear and in a second, our little swordfight went from hella fun to fucking terrifying, Max charging forward and kicking me off the fucking boat and jumping down on top of me. Lucky I landed on clear ground and not a fucking glass bottle or pile of syringes or some hella dangerous shit like that. 

She had the stick to my throat and was just sort of staring at something just over my shoulder. She looked… not all here. I blinked up at her, trying to move as little as possible. I talked carefully, trying to do that melodic calming thing police do on the TV. “Max…”

I don’t even think she was seeing me, just something from back on that fucking island. I tried again, a little louder. “Max!”

She blinked and shook her head, reconnecting with the whole sword to the throat sitch. She dropped the stick and backed away from me, looking fucking horrified. I dropped mine and went after her. “Max!”

I caught up with her by the bus. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against it. I wandered over and sat next to her, waiting for her to say something. 

“When I said I was alone on the island, Chloe… I lied.”

I froze. Finally. Ok, Price, don’t fuck this up. “Oh?”

She nodded. “Yeah. The people there… they tortured me, Chloe. I had to fight them, I had to… to…”

She was staring off into the distance, twitching slightly. I think she was trying not to cry, but I’m fucking awful at the mushy emotional shit. 

“It’s ok, Max. Like I said, not gonna make you talk about shit unless you want to.”

She smiles, hella absently again. “I want to… I’m just not ready yet.”

She leans back against the bus and settles. “But you’ll be the first person I talk to when I do.”

I grin. “Thanks, Maximus.” 

We sit in silence for a few minutes, but it’s not uncomfortable anymore. It’s just… quiet. 

My phone beeps and I check the clock. “Crap. We gotta get back, Max. Mom wants us home for noms.”

She nodded and we got up and headed back to my truck

As we were driving along, Max suddenly looked at something out the window. 

“What are those?”

I took a quick look. “It’s the mines, Max. They’ve been closed for years. They were hella busted up or something. Why?”

She shrugged. “Just curious.”

I frowned. She doesn’t sound just curious. But I dropped it. No way I’m gonna piss her off or push her yet. Still not that much of a bitch.

\-----

As we walked in, Mom called out from the kitchen. “Chloe, Max, is that you?”

I headed into the kitchen, Max went upstairs. “Yeah, it’s us, Mom. How long till noms? I’m starving!”

She laughed. “Not long, Chloe. I’ll call you both down when it’s ready.”

“Awesomesauce.” 

I went to my room to tell Max. 

The window was open again. 

Well, fuck.


	4. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya fan-fic folks!
> 
> Firstly, woops. This was supposed to go out with the last update, but for some bizarre reason it didn’t. I only recently. Sorry ‘bout that, and here’s the fourth chapter of The Island. 
> 
> Secondly, the votes for which story you want next is still open. I’m happy to let y’all decide which two stories from my profile you’d like me to do next. If you have any questions or you think one of the summaries needs improving, please throw me a PM. I’ve finally worked out how the system works now, so I can actually say that and mean it. :)
> 
> Finally, the only other thing going up in this update is a Blackwell Job chapter. But that needs some final edits and it’s like, half past midnight here and I’ve been out all day. So, I’m exhausted and basically, I’m not really together enough to edit properly. I’ll do it tomorrow and upload the Blackwell Job then. 
> 
> Thanks for reading fan-fic-folks and, as always, please review.

“Seriously, dude. How do you have this much shit?” I wheezed as I helped Max carry this hella large crate up the stairs to the Blackwell Dorm. 

Max shrugged, completely fine with carrying the fucking pile of bricks or dead whales or whatever the fuck is in this thing. “Even on an island, you still accumulate stuff. And your mom bought me new clothes.”

We head in the door and get hit by the four different songs from four different genres that’re playing in this place. Max stops, listening for a sec. “This place is loud.”

I nod, trying not to drop the box. I seriously need to hit the weights or something, ‘cause I’m hella gonna drop this crate soon. “Yeah. Like a slumber party, a cheap motel and a girls gone wild movie all packed into one.” I shake my head. “So fucking glad I’m not stuck with this shit anymore.”

Max smirks. “That bad, huh?”

I nodded. “Hella. Wait till you meet the Queen Bitch herself. She’s probably hovering around this place somewhere, waiting so she can be hella bitchy to you.”

I kinda fumble with the box for a second, then hoist it up, trying to like, lever my arm against it or something. “We better get moving or I’m hella gonna drop this fucking thing.”

Max nodded and I turned and immediately ran into this tiny girl. Literally. Knocked her over and everything…

Woops. 

Max quickly sidestepped us both, only just missing getting knocked over too. Fuck, she has hella fast reflexes. She even catches the fucking box. 

She stands back and smirks as the other girl and I kinda untangle ourselves. She puts the crate down and helps the other girl up. I scramble to my feet too. “You ok? I am so fucking sorry.”

I get a good look at the girl then. She’s pretty short, like Max, but has a hella huge bun of dirty blonde hair sitting on her head. It definitely gives her an extra couple of inches. 

She smiles and brushes me off. “I’m okay. The floor is more comfortable than it looks.” She looks me over. “Are you moving in? I don’t recognise you from class.”

I shake my head. “Nah. I got kicked out of this place years back. I’m just the muscle.” I nod to Max. “She’s the new girl.”

Kate steps forward and sticks out her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Kate. Kate Marsh.”

Max gives her a faint little smile and shakes her hand. “Max.”

We all kinda stand around, not saying anything for a few seconds before Kate spots the pile of stuff Max left on the floor. “Omigosh, I’m so sorry, did I get in your way?”

Max shrugs. “More like we got in yours.”

Kate smiles. “Still, I’m sorry.” She looks down at her watch. “Omigosh, I’m late! I’ve got to go, I’m sorry!”

And she just rushes out the door past us. I snort. “I like her.”

 

Max laughs.

We hit her room and dump her shit there. She slides the crate into a corner and starts unpacking from the bags we’d dumped on her bed in the last trip. 

I flop down into her desk chair and watch her start unpacking her shit. 

Max walks differently now. Like a panther or something. It’s kinda cool to watch her prowl around the room. Weird though. I wonder what the fuck happened to make her walk like that? Like… a hunter. 

I must’ve sat and watched her for a while, ‘cause next thing I know, Max is shaking me. “Chloe? Did you fall asleep or something?”

I snort and twirl away from her, so I’m standing up. She takes the chair instead. “You’re right. I really do have a lot of stuff.”

I point a finger at her. “See? Told you so.”

She rolls her eyes. I take a look around the room. “This place is still a shithole.”

Max smiles and shakes her head. “When you’ve been living in a cave for five years, this is a palace.”

I frown. “A cave, huh?” I grinned and look over at Max. “I bet that… rocked.”

She groans. “Seriously?”

I laugh. 

Suddenly, a dark shape appears in the doorway and dashes forward, punching me in the shoulder. “Chloe fucking Price, why the hell have you been ignoring me all day? What the hell is more important than..?”

She trails off when she sees Max sitting in the desk chair. I roll my eyes as the flirty little smile immediately appears on her face as she leans back, one hand going to her hip, eyes fixed to Max. “Hi.”

Max raises one eyebrow. She looks at me, then at the new arrival. “Um. Hi?”

The ‘intruder’ steps forward, one hand thrust out to Max. “Hi. I’m Rachel.”

Max stares at the hand for a second, then shakes it. “Max.”

Rachel’s eyes bulge. She looks at me, then at Max, then back at me. “Seriously?”

Max frowns at me. “Seriously?”

I shrug. “I might’ve mentioned you a couple of times.”

Rachel scoffs. Bitch. “A couple of times? She barely ever shut up about”

I shut her up with a glare. She shrugged, giving me one of her hella annoying smug grins. Rach was fucking intolerable when she thought she was right. “What? You didn’t. I feel like I know her already, you’ve said so much about her!”

Max doesn’t look at either of us, keeping her eyes fixed on the wall. It’s kinda cute, actually. She’s still hella shy sometimes. “Um. There’s still stuff I need in the truck. I’ll leave you to…” She wafts a hand between us. “This.”

We both watch Max leave. The minute the door closes, Rachel squeals “Oh my god, she is so CUTE!”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Rach?” 

She rolls over and stares at me from the couch. “Hella serious.” She smirks and tilts her head. “I wonder how far down those freckles go..?”

I snort. “Keep it in your pants, dude. Max is off limits.”

Rachel puts a hand to her chest, hella offended. Drama Queen. “Chloe Price! It was entirely an academic interest.” She winks and grins. “You know, for science.”

Uhuh… I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You’re hella hoping for some ‘experimentation’, right?”

Rachel laughs, but turns it into a cough when Max walks in, a backpack on each shoulder, a duffel in one hand and my keys in the other. “Got it all, Chloe. Here’s your keys.”

She throws the keys. I catch them. I actually do, too, which is hella awesome. I glare at Rachel. She just laughs more. 

Rachel watches as Max prowls around putting her shit away. I snort and elbow her. Stop Staring Dumbass! I mouth. 

She shrugs and grins back. We have a weird, kinda hurried conversation like that until I frown, suddenly noticing the noise has stopped. We both turn to see Max standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed and watching us. 

I grin sheepishly. “Hey Max. You done?”

She nods. Rachel beams. “Great!” She hops up from the couch and throws her arm over Max’s shoulder. “Come on, I’ll introduce you. It’s the least I can do. Any friend of Chloe’s is a friend of mine, right?”

I watch as Rach kinda pulls Max out of the room, then I just laugh and follow them out. Heh. 

\-----

Rach poked her head into some girls room. “Hey Jules, Dana, you decent?”

She leans back and waves us in. “Come on in, Max!”

Max looks at me. 

We walk in and see Rachel chatting with two girls. One grins when Max walks in and jumps up, throwing her arms around Max. “Hey! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Dana,” She thumbs over her shoulder at the other girl. “And that one is Jules.” 

‘Jules’ nods. She seems kinda grumpy. “Hello, Max.”

Rach is leaning back against one wall, watching them with a grin. 

I stick to the doorway. 

“So, Max, are you here for Mr Jefferson’s class? I bet you are, you look like a photo-hound.”

Max nods. “Yes, I am actually. He was one of my favourite photographers before…” She trails off. “W-When I was a kid.”

“That’s awesome! Me and Jules are in his class too. He’s a really great teacher.”

Max goes and sits in the desk chair and Dana lounges back on her bed again. Juliet frowns at Max. She opens her mouth to ask something, but Dana just keeps on going. From the hella irritated look ‘Jules’ throws her, I kinda get the idea this happens a lot. 

Rach chips in. “Dana’s a model, like me.”

Dana snorts. “Nobody is a model like you, Rachel.”

Rachel laughs. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Dana’s eyes open hella wide. I could practically see the fucking lightbulb pop in above her head. “You know, Max. Maybe we could model for you sometime!”

Max smiles and nods. “That’d be so cool! You two would make awesome models. You both have amazing faces!”

Rachel raises an eyebrow and Dana and Juliet share a grin. “Smooth, Casanova.”

Max flushes, eyes stuck to the floor. I step into the room. “Why don’t you show them your pictures?”

Max nods and flees. She didn’t have much chance to be social and shit on the island, right? Pretty sure she was fucking relieved to be outta there. Who says I’m not all sensitive and shit? I got Max’s back. 

Rachel makes a joke about something and they laugh. I hear ‘Vortex Party’ and just tune that shit out. 

Max comes back a couple of minutes later and basically throws the little box of polaroids (Joyce kept all of Max’s old pictures. Put them next to the box of Dad’s old shots in the attic.) at Dana & Jules. I watch as they all start chattering enthusiastically about Max’s pictures. Even Rach gets drawn in. They all seem to like her stuff though.

I turn around to tell her that and Max is just gone. I sigh, heading back to her room. I push open the door and…

Yep. The fucking window is open. And that hella big, hella heavy crate is gone, too.

I frown...

“How the fucking fuckity fuck did she get that thing out the window?”


	5. A Stare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> Wow, it really has been a while since the last Island, huh? Sorry 'bout that, the other stories have just been writing themselves so much more easily than this one, so this kinda fell by the wayside for a while. Hopefully this two-chapter upload will make up for that. I'm quite happy with how these turned out, I think. I like The Hunter character I've got for the Island flashbacks. Let me know what you think of those, btw. I've got two in this chapter and two in the next, so hopefully y'all like them. Writing Rachel is hard, as always though, simply 'cause I'm entirely drawing from other fics to get an idea of the characters voice. I hope you like the way I've done her. I definitely don't like writing Kate this way though. I've gotten use to writing her like I did in The Blackwell Job, but that doesn't work her, so I've been trying to dip into her character without getting too in-depth and I thought it turned out terribly. You might think differently though, so let me know.
> 
> Also, no update next Wednesday. I have some assessment thing next Thursday that counts as 10% of my final grade, so I'm working on that instead. Sorry, folks, but I'll definitely have something done for the week after.
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

The Hunter prowled the tunnel, stalking her prey. The creature was strong, the largest of it's kind and with an appetite to match. The huge beast was intruding on The Hunter's territory, passing into the tunnels she called home earlier that day. She had witnessed the creature devour several of her Darkebeest, the small, cattle-like creatures that provided a significant portion of her diet, and the rest of her herd had fled into the tunnels, perhaps never to return.

The Hunter was angry.

She watched now, as the monster lumbered down the thin side passage, exactly as expected. She slid her blade from its sheath, smiling faintly as she felt it's weight in her hand. There was something almost comforting about it, a constant companion in the dark passages she called home. She ran a finger along the blades edge. Still sharp.

She paused, waiting for the sound that would begin her hunt anew.

A throaty growl stopped the creature in it's tracks. It peered ahead, curious about the source. The Hunter knew this was a futile effort, the creature could distinguish little beyond a few feet. Again, the growl came, and the creature hunched, coiled muscles tightening as it readied for it’s new victim.

Far behind, The Hunter came out of her hiding space, running impossibly fast along the tiny cracks and spurs in the corridor walls. Using her armour, she was invisible against the rock, and the long months of practice meant she made barely a sound.

The growl came again, but didn't move closer. The monster shuffled forward, hunting for it's prey. When it crossed through the low archway, The Hunter clicked a switch.

Suddenly, the arch filled with an inky black cloud and the creature stepped back, as The Hunter knew it would.

She fell upon it, leaping on it's back from the wall. She landed and ran up it's scales to get to the thing's head. The creature reacted the minute her feet landed, writhing and rearing to try dislodge her. It breathed out a cloud of toxic fumes, desperate to kill this new challenger.

But The Hunter knew her prey, knew that it's eyes could kill. She kept out of it's gaze, knowing that if the beast saw her, she was dead. When she reached the head, her blade dived into one of the thing’s eyes and it screamed in sudden agony. It thrashed about, trying to dislodge her again.

But The Hunter was too fast.

She let the anger flow, bashing blow after blow onto it's armoured head, flecking off scales and biting at the flesh underneath. The beast had intruded on her domain, and now it would pay the price.

Price...

The monster understood the danger, but still believed it could win. It always won.

Until the great cat launched itself out of the darkness, latching onto the belly of the beast. Sharp claws dug deep lines into the creature's throat, catching its attention it as it tried to fend off the new opponent.

The Hunter saw her moment, and her blade dug viciously into the things head, slamming through scale, through flesh, and through skull, pushing the monster over the precipice into death. Long after the monster fell, the sword kept battering savagely at it's corpse. Eventually, the strikes slowed to a stop. The Hunter removed her hood and inspected the broken pile of gore and bone at her feet. She raised her blade and gave a primal cry of victory.

She was the Hunter and these were her hunting grounds!

When she had thrown all her rage out in that scream, she looked upon the cat and felt ashamed. The Panther's eyes judged her, even if the Panther herself did not. The cat was The Hunter's only companion, her only link to the civilised past she had once known.

She sheathed her long blade and pulled a smaller one, settling down to slice at the beast's corpse. This was a good find. The Hunter would eat well tonight.

She stood up, her work complete. Her eyes settled on the panther gazing at her. She reached out and ran her fingers through her mane. “

The two prowled back into the quiet tunnels and caverns. Back to the cave they called home. They had a herd to find.

I woke up.

I'm not on the Island.

Blackwell.

I sighed and got out of bed, collecting my shower things.

\-----

Showering done, I went back to my room and dressed. My first class was soon. I grabbed my bag and headed out onto the corridor.

"Hey Max! How are you?" A tall girl moved out of a door behind me.

I turned and smiled faintly at her. Dana. "Hey. I'm good." Ask her how she is, dumbass. "How are you?"

She beamed, all bubbly. "I'm great! There's a party on this weekend! Me and the toyboy are getting all dressed up." She pauses, looks at me for a second. "You should come! Rachel and Chloe are coming, so you'll know some people and," I don't really catch the rest of it, she's talking so quickly.

I stared at her for a second. "A party?"

She nods, grinning. "Yeah, girl! So, will you come? Please say you will!"

I... "I really don't know..."

“Oh, come on, Max. You need to let loose, girl. It’s been, what, like 1800 days since your last party? You need to get down with it, girl!"

I get the feeling she isn’t going to give this up, so I shrug. “I guess I can go.”

She grins. “Great! We can meet up before the party and I’ll get you all dolled up! This is gonna be so fun!”

I smile back. "Yeah. Now, I've really got to get to class. See you later, Dana."

She smiles again. "Seeya!"

I turn and I leave, somewhat baffled by the whole experience. Not much Girl-talk on the Island. Or beforehand, really. Wowzers, that was weird.

\-----

I walk into the classroom, scanning the faces. Some seem friendly, some apathetic, some aloof. The usual high-school cliques. I recognise Kate sitting in the back corner and move to her table.

"Hi. Kate, right?"

She looked up and smiled at me. "That's me. And you're Max. Did your move go ok? I hope there were no more collisions."

I smiled. Kate was nice. "It did. I met a few of the others."

She nodded. "Yes, we have quite a colourful group in the dorms."

I snorted. That's an understatement. "We sure do. Can I sit with you?"

She smiled and nodded her head. "Of course."

We chatted a little before class started. She gave me some, uh... well. Turns out Kate is quite the gossip.

The teacher walked in a couple of minutes late. Idiot. He slid a bag onto his desk and turned to look at us all. He was handsome, I guess. In a pretty-boy older guy sort of way. But there was something... predatory about the way he scanned the room. Like he was a wolf picking sheep from a flock. His eyes settled on me and he smiled.

"Alright, everyone. Let's get started. Now, for those of you who haven't noticed, we have a new student with us." His eyes never leave mine. "This is Max."

He walks forward to stand in the middle of the room. I frowned. He's left his back open to half the room. "So, today we're talking about Chiaroscuro." He leant back against the empty table.

I didn't really listen to the rest of the lecture. I found myself thinking back to the island.

I remember vividly the day I walked into the caves below the Islands surface. Miles of tunnels and caverns lay before me, a life of freedom and adventure. More than that, I entered the caves with the belief that I could live my life as I chose, no longer forced to the will of others.

I had no fucking idea. In those caves was freedom, there was adventure, but there was also unending solitude. As I got more and more used to the tunnels, survival became easier and harder all at once. I trained and trained and became strong, able to defeat anything that wandered into my land. It didn’t take me long to find the one enemy I could never defeat. The one I could never hide or run from.

Solitude.

My hand snapped up and caught the paper, returning it back instinctively. Something I'd practised a lot back on the Island. Hours and hours of throwing blades back and forth until it was completely instinctual. I didn't see it, but I knew it hit someone from the alarmed yelp. I flick my eyes up to Kate, who gives me a grateful smile.

She looks over my shoulder and her face falls. I follow her gaze to see Victoria glaring daggers at me. I return her stare. She blanches and slides her eyes away from me again.

Eyes are an important tool of survival out in the wilds. A good Stare can discourage many predators, and Victoria was no different. I’m predicting a show of dominance soon.

The rest of the lesson went quickly and without anything else interesting happening.

\-----

Kate and I headed out onto the corridor, chatting about... Well, just small talk, really. Weather, classes, that sort of thing.

"Well, if it isn't Island Jane." The two girls behind Victoria tittered. I'd never really heard a laugh that fit that before, but theirs certainly did. Reminded me of a Taca bird, from back on the island. Annoying little rat-birds.

I smiled. "That's me. And you are?" Predators always hated a bold prey. They needed fear to rule.

She bristled, but hid it. Then, she smirked. "I'm Victoria Chase. I rule this school."

I opened my mouth to reply when a voice rang out from behind her. "You fuckin' challenging me, Vic? 'cause I'm pretty sure the crown was on my head, last I looked."

Victoria snorted. "Jesus, Nate. Just letting the new girl know where she stands."

"New girl?" He frowned at me. It was like being frowned at by a tiger. Or maybe a wolfshark. It was an appraising frown. Seeing if I was going to be a threat or not. Apparently, he decided not, because he smiled instead. Then I wasn't sure what the emotion was. Could be pleased, could be nauseous. I've been on an Island for five years, people. Plus, I was never really good at this before, either. I mostly just relied on Chloe to do the talking. She liked to joke she was enough voice for both of us.

I nodded. "Max."

He frowned again. "Max?"

I frowned this time. "Yeah. Max."

He stared at me for a second. I hadn't a clue what he was thinking. "Huh. Well, like Vic said, we own this place. We own you. So don't fuck with us, got it?"

I nodded and watched them leave. Well, that was... something. I turned and left for my dorm.


	6. Chloe's Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> So, two Island Chapters, aren't y'all lucky? 

I headed down the long dorm corridor to my room. I walked over to the window, throwing my hoodie on my bed as I went. I opened the window and looked out onto the courtyard. There were students dotted about, some milling around in groups and others walked intently to wherever they went after classes were over.

The Hunters instincts screamed danger just before someone grabbed me. "Booyah!"

I reacted immediately, grabbing the two arms wrapping around me and tossing the person attached to them over my shoulder. I recognised the frantic "Oh fuck!" when I planted my foot on their chest. Chloe's panicked eyes looked up at me. I blinked at her, desperately holding back the Hunter’s instincts.

"She's a friend!" I frantically thought, trying to stop The Hunter lashing out again. "A friend! Not a threat!"

The Hunter snarled as I pushed her back into my head, warring with those old instincts that kept me alive for so long, but have no use now. "There are no friends! No allies! Just me!"

“No! I have friends, I have allies! I don’t need you anymore!” I’m basically shouting in my head right now, in some desperate attempt

I sigh. Dog, that was hard. But the Hunter was back in her cage. I look down into Chloe's concerned eyes. "Damn it Chloe. Don't do that ever again!"

She frowned, probably seeing the battle on my face. But then. she just grinned up at me. "Noted. No more surprises." I pulled her up and she dusted herself off. "Man, you flip hard for a tiny nerd. Grab your coat."

I frowned. “Why?”

"Snatch and grab rescue mission in enemy territory!” She laughed to herself. She stuck her hands in her pockets and shrugged. “Mom wants you over for dinner. Check how your first day went and all that shit."

I laughed. "How very daring, Chlo. Consider me rescued."

She threw her arm over my shoulder as we walked out. "Awesomesauce. So... how was your first day, anyway?”

I shrugged. “Meh. Kinda weird, actually.”

\-----

*Flashback Ends*

She looked upon the cat, padding silently around the small cubby chamber they called home. She knew they needed the rest, but the search for the herd took priority.

She left the cat to her patrol and, after removing and replacing the rocks disguising the entrance to their home, headed into the larger chamber it was carefully hidden in. The Hunter moved across the cavern, quickly, silently. She hopped the five-foot wide stream running across the middle of the cavern with ease and continued moving to her destination.

There was a sudden raise halfway, ten feet high, dividing the cave into two levels. She took off at a run. The echoes of her footfalls invited the risk of further intrusion, but it was a necessary risk. She leaped up onto a particularly large stalagmite sitting opposite to her small cave home, wrapping her arms around it, but leaving her feet flat on it's surface.

After a brief moment listening for pursuit, The Hunter began to climb upwards. She slid, mostly. There was a rhythm to the activity, hands, left foot, right foot, hands again. Just before the tip, she shuffled her feet and pushed off, grabbing the ledge of the upper level. The Hunter scaled the ledge easily and pulled herself onto it.

A group of humanoid mushroom-men met her at the top. Some were shorter than her, but others towered above her, nearly double her height. They were scared. The monster had come into their cavern before her own, and the Myconid ruler had fallen. The fungus-men likely found her as disgusting as she found them, but they clearly understood she had killed the intruder and that bought The Hunter acceptance. As long as her weapon stayed sheathed, they would let her pass freely.

The largest of the Myconids stepped forward. The Hunter tensed, but made no move. It was in both their interests to establish acceptance between the new king of the grove and herself. The allegiance between the two inhabitants had protected the cavern many times.

The Myconid puffed out, releasing a cloud of purplish-blue spores. The Hunter studied them briefly, in the few seconds she had before they settled over her and she breathed them in. These beings could emit many different types of spore, some highly dangerous. But The Hunter recognised these and accepted them, breathing in deeply.

"Old king dead. Me King." came the things thoughts through the mental bond created by the spore cloud.

"You are King. As it was?" She asked.

"Bottom for human, grove for Myconid." The thing returned.

The Hunter nodded. "Agreed."

"Grove for Myconid!" The mushroom-man thought again, emphasising each word in turn.

The Hunter silently dropped back off the ledge. She had accomplished her task. Neither of them wished to continue the meeting. Rather than heading back, The Hunter moved to the huge archway leading out of the Myconid Cavern.

Directly in front of the archway exit from the Myconid chamber stood their former king, once a twelve-foot giant, now nothing more than a stone ornament amongst the equally unmoving figures of The Hunter's petrified darkebeest.

The Hunter paused to regard it.

She had never learned the things name, and had never given it hers, but she supposed that it had been her ally at least, perhaps even a friend, or as close as one got down here. They had lived side-by-side since The Hunter came to this place, and both achieved some measure of security just by the others presence. An Oasis like theirs was rare and when predators inevitably found their way in, it was up to them both to defend it.

However, The Hunter felt no remorse at the sight of her petrified ally. In the dark caves they called home, only the strongest survived, and this time the Myconid king had not been strong enough. Here, failure allowed for no second chance.

Now, The Hunter would search for her lost herd.

*Flashback Ends*

Chloe’s truck pulled up outside her house with an agonised shrieking of brakes that pulls me back to reality. I covered my ears. “Wowzers, Chloe. This thing is seriously rusty. It sounds like a tak-hound.”

“Hey!” Chloe smirks, throwing the reference out with a drawl. “Don’t diss the truck. She ain’t nothin’ flash, but my baby’s got it where it counts, kid.”

I rolled my eyes. Harrison Ford you are not, Chlo. She frowned. “Wait, what the fuck is a tak-hound?”

“Big dogs from the Island. Used to wail like a dying banshee at night.”

She stared at me. I frowned back. “What?”

She shook her head, probably deciding I was kidding, then hopped out of the truck. “Nothin’. Come on, Maxie. Let’s go see what Joyce is cooking. I’m hungry.”

I laughed. “You’re always hungry.”

She shrugged. “Hella true.”

We headed in to the house. Joyce was singing some old song in the kitchen. David was sitting on the sofa watching something on the TV. I followed Chloe into the kitchen. “Hey Mom.”

“Evening Chloe.” Joyce turned and smiled at me. “Hi Max, good to see you.”

After a bit of catching up, Joyce shooed us out of the kitchen, with something about "being underfoot", so we headed upstairs.

Chloe ambled over to her desk and swung into the chair. I followed, sitting on the bed. "So, made any friends?"

I nodded. "A couple. You remember the girl you... uh, bumped into?"

Chloe snorted. "Be pretty hard to forget her. My knees still fucking hurt. What's her name?" She clicks her fingers, trying to dislodge the memory or something. I never understood why she did this. "Kylie? Cam? Cape? Fuck... I can't remember, what is it?"

I smirk. "Kate Marsh. She's in my class. She's nice."

Chloe nods, smiling. "Awesome. I..." She sighs, climbing up off the bed and shuffling around the room. "I was kinda worried. You were always hella shy, right? And they always say it's hella important to make friends and..."

I cut in. "Thanks, Chloe." I amble over and gently elbow her. "But you're enough for me, you know. The SS Pricefield only needs two crew."

We smile at each other for a few moments before Joyce's yell interrupts us. "Chloe! Max! Dinner's ready!"

Chloe grinned, grabbing my hand and nearly pulling my arm off as she dragged me to the door. "Come on, Max! I need Noms!"

David was still reading his paper when we got downstairs, so we just sat at the table, waiting for food. Chloe got bored quickly. She lounged back in her seat. "Come on, Mom! I need noms! You wouldn't wanna be responsible for me starving to death here at the table, would ya?"

Joyce didn't even look up from whatever she was doing. "Patience, Chloe. A little wait before you eat won't kill you."

"But how do you know? I could be hella wasting away right here and you'd never know because you'd still be in the kitchen!"

I smiled at her antics. Chloe always did have the biggest appetite I'd ever seen. She could work her way through whole piles of pancakes in one sitting and never gain a pound. One hell of a metabolism.

When we'd all taken our seats, and Chloe had finally been 'rescued from the brink of starvation' (Her words, not mine.), Joyce looked over at me.

“So, how was your first day, Max?”

I smiled back over at her. “It was good. I got invited to a party this weekend.”

Chloe suddenly chirped up, food falling out of her mouth. “Hey, me and Rach are going to that! This is gonna be hella awesome.”

"Chloe!" Joyce shouted. I giggled as Chloe shrugged indignantly. "What?"

Joyce and I shared a look as David pointedly kept reading his paper. She shook her head and smiled. “Chloe never could resist a shindig. Just, be careful, Max. Kids round here party pretty hard.”

I nodded. "So I hear. I'll be careful, Joyce."

"You worry too much, Mom. Me and Rach'll be there to kick anyone's ass if they mess with Max."

Joyce nodded, looking approvingly at Chloe. Even David looked pleased to hear that. Wow. Am I the Price-Madsen family project or something? "Good." She looked back at me again. "So, how were classes?"

The rest of dinner was awkward, but surprisingly civil. I guess after last time, they were working not to argue around me again. I wasn't complaining, the last time was seriously awkward.

When everything was cleared away, Chloe and I headed upstairs. Chloe wandered over to the bed and flung herself backwards onto it. I took the desk chair. "Hey, Max?"

I looked over at Chloe. She'd gotten a little ashtray out. "I need to bake. Can you put some music on?"

"Sure, Chlo." I got up and walked to the little player sat in the corner. I clicked the on button and it lit up. I started flicking through Chloe's CD collection. I was curious what my old first mate was into nowadays. From the hair I was expecting something metal, but her collection was pretty indie. I picked something at random and stuck it in.

Chloe grinned. "Hella good choice, Max."

We sat and listened to the music for a minute before Chloe offered me the blunt. I think I surprised her when I took it. She stared at me, slackjawed as I took a drag. "Woah, Maxie. You really are full of fucking surprises, aren't you?"

I shrug and grin. "Yep."

We hear footsteps coming up the stairs and hide the pot. I'm pretty sure Joyce and Step-douche wouldn't like us smoking pot up here. We'd both just gotten settled again when the door opened and Chloe's friend poked her head in. Rachel, I think her name was. "Hey, Chloe."

Chloe grinned, probably relieved she wasn't gonna have to fight with David again. Getting those two in a room was pretty much guaranteeing some sort of conflict. "Look what the cat dragged in! Hey Rach."

Rachel slipped in the door, closing it behind her and leaning back in front of it, hand going straight to her hip. Dog, she's so graceful. It's like watching a marine who used to be a ballet dancer. Every movement is perfectly economical, effortless and simple, but with a sort of natural grace to her that even the most talented martial arts master couldn't hope to imitate. "Hey Chlo." She smiles a mischievous little smile. "Hey Max. Nice to see you again. I hear you're going to this weekend's Vortex Bash, huh?"

I nod. "Dana invited me. I think she was trying to be friendly."

Rachel nods. "That is Dana's style. She's like a mother hen, taking all the new chicks under her wing." She clicks her fingers. "Oh, and before I forget!" She reaches into a little satchel at her side. "I wasn't really sure what to do with these, so here." She hands me the box of Polaroids I showed to her, Dana and Juliet.

"Thanks, Rachel. I'm sorry I..." I trail off, not really sure how to explain what happened yesterday.

She shrugs, dismissive yet with an oddly understanding look. "Don't sweat it, Max. Not everyone's comfortable with social situations."

I smiled, probably looking pathetically grateful for her understanding. Chloe chirps up again "Yeah, Max. Not everybody can be social wizards like me and Rach!"

Rachel arches one elegant brow and peers over at Chloe. "Social Wizard?" She smirks. "Pretty sure that's the dorkiest thing anyone's ever said, Chlo."

Chloe snorts. "Can it, Rach."

She laughs, ambling over to the bed. "Come on, pass one over."

Chloe hands her a joint. Rachel takes a long drag and looks over at me. "So, Max-Flash. I hear you've got some sort of super-speed?"

Chloe looks between us, confusion open on her face. "What?"

Rachel beams. "She caught this paper ball Taylor threw at that girl Kate without even looking."

Chloe stares at me. "Seriously?"

I shrug, sheepishly. "It was just instinct."

She blinks. "Wow."

Rachel takes another drag, a curious tilt to her head as she asks "So, how'd you learn to do that?"

Chloe elbows Rachel and hisses "Dude! I told you to leave that shit alone!"

I drift out while they're bickering, gently breathing in the smoke and finding myself fading away into memories...

*flashback begins*

The Hunter sighed. Darkebeest were cowardly creatures, easily panicked, and they had run far. She found brief traces in the surrounding tunnels, following their trail. It was unlikely many had survived, but a stable food source was rare in these tunnels, and The Hunter had to try.

It was her second day in the tunnels when she and the Panther began to close in on a group of the lost beasts. She had hoped that the herd would stay together, but she found only a half-dozen in the area. Six were better than none, and The Hunter set the Panther to aiding her in herding the darkebeest back to the cave. They were both exhausted by the time the Darkebeest were returned to grazing comfortably by the cavern stream.

After only a short rest, the hunt called to them again. Frightened Darkebeest could stampede over an incredible distance, and in the maze of caverns and tunnels, The Hunter knew that many days would pass before she found more of the lost beasts. Starting the hunt again

They spent nearly three days in the search, scavenging for food as they went, before they gave up. Though the Darkebeest could run far, they were meek and timid creatures. It was doubtful they had survived even this long, but a food source like that was not easily given up on. Eventually though, after travelling far from the cavern, The Hunter accepted the loss of her herd and started the return home. She picked a new route, but one that should take her straight home, albeit from the opposite direction.

Around halfway there, a strange noise caught The Hunters attention. She pressed her head to the stone, feeling the rhythmical vibrations. Something close by was banging on the stone in measures. Tap. Pause. Tap. Pause. Tap.

The Hunter drew her sword and motioned to the Panther to follow. They crept along, using the vibrations to guide them.

The flickering torchlight from down the tunnel dropped her into an alert crouch, but she did not flee, drawn by the presence of other intelligent beings. It was possible, likely even, that the stranger was a threat, but she hoped for something more.

Then she spotted them, two figures chipping away at the stone with crafted pickaxes, another collecting their finds in a wheelbarrow and two more standing guard. She knew there would be far more guards in the tunnels around her, she had likely penetrated their defences without ever seeing them. She motioned the Panther to follow her and climbed the walls, heading for a high rise hidden in shadow.

They were all different creatures. One was a tall feathered thing with a quarter-hinged beak, each quarter of it opening outwards like an insects mandibles. Another looked like a reverse-jointed lemur. The two guards were short and squat, grey skinned with no hair on their bodies at all. They were all laughing and joking as they worked. The Hunter wanted to retreat from those words, flee back into the quiet corridors and wilds she had found herself in, but another voice, smaller and nearly forgotten, urged her to stay.

A smile not inspired by victory found its way onto the Hunter's face for the first time in long memory as the creatures scrambled about, tossing huge chunks of rock into wheelbarrows. When they filled every wheelbarrow, they moved into a column and started off into a tunnel on the opposite side of the cavern. The Hunter knew the prudent act would be to let them leave, then slip out and return to her home but, acting against the logic that guided her solely by survival, she found she could not so easily let the voices get away. She picked her way down the wall and fell into pace behind the caravan, wondering where the first sentient beings she'd seen since she came here could possibly have come from.

For many days, she and the Panther followed the caravan. Every instinct in her body warred against her actions, but she overrode The Hunter and forced herself on. For the first time, she overruled the instincts of her more primal self. She needed to hear the voices of these beings far more than she ever needed the simple necessities of survival.

The corridors became more worked, less natural, around her, and she knew she was approaching whatever place these people called home. Again the instincts in her screamed the dangers, and again she dismissed them. She sped her steps until the caravan was directly in sight, suspecting they would have traps scattered about their home like she did.

The caravan quickly began curving their path, taking care to avoid certain areas. She was right. She carefully mimicked their movements and smiled when she noticed assorted loose stones and tripwires dotted around. The Hunter's instincts were useful.

Eventually, the mining caravan came to a long, wide stairway. To the side of the stairway was a tiny hole, barely higher and wider than the wheelbarrows they had. This turned out to be for a reason, as she watched them move the wheelbarrows to the hole and attach them to a chain. A series of taps on the stone sent a signal to some unseen operator and the wheelbarrows suddenly began to move into the hole.

Seeing her chance, she waited for the miners to turn their backs or leave, then ran for the hole, making it just before the last cart. The chain pulled the line of carts along, up a steep incline, then a level surface, then another steep incline. She followed them along, trapped between two carts. She couldn't see anything ahead of her, as the tunnel was designed to perfectly fit the height and width of the tunnel. The instincts of The Hunter stretched out, trying to sense any nearby foes and ensuring she could not ignore the danger around her now.

After several minutes, the tunnel levelled out again, widening into a full room. There was another of the little grey men there, turning a crank that worked the machine hauling the wheelbarrows along. He was totally immersed in his work and never saw The Hunter slip from the line and dart through the open door behind him.

The Hunter sensed a dozen or more other beings around her, heard their voices, as soon as she opened the door. But she continued ahead, as she had nowhere else to go, creeping forward until she found herself on a narrow ledge. She caught sight of the miners again, milling about on a landing at the top of the huge stairway.

At the back of the landing, through two immense and slightly ajar metal-cast doors, she could see a city! Huge towering stone buildings, carved with intricate patterns she couldn't make out at the long distance, took up most of the view. She couldn't see how large the cavern was, but she thought it to be expansive.

She longed to go in, to jump up and present herself to these people as a friend, hoping they would see her and welcome her. But The Hunter warred within her still. The Hunter could not move from the ledge, could not take the chance of giving herself over in hopes of civilised mercy. As she watched, the miners headed over to the doors.

It was her last chance! She had to go now, had to spring up and follow them through the doorway, or be lost forever. But The Hunter prevailed and the massive stone doors closed. After a long and tormented moment, The Hunter dropped from the ledge onto the landing at the top of the stairs. Her primal instincts sensed the guards before she saw them, enabling her to avoid them with ease. With an agile leap, she flew over the startled guards milling about the stairway and fled back into the wilds of the caverns she called home. As she moved further and further out, The Hunter took full command, denying any further thoughts of the city.

*Flashback Ends*

"Hey, Max" A hand waves in front of my face.

I blink and take a swipe at it, suddenly looking into two concerned faces. "Hey Max. You alright?"

I close my eyes and shake my head about like a rattle, feeling the fog ease away. There are some advantages of my time on the Island. I open my eyes and look back at them. "Yep. I'm good."

Chloe frowns. "Uhuh... Sorry, Mad Max, you're cut off for tonight."

We spend the rest of the evening laughing and joking around, just getting to know each other. Rachel is... interesting. She's elegant and graceful in everything she does, even in conversation. Every smile, every joke just comes as naturally to her as breathing does to us mere mortals.

I check my watch. "Hey, Chloe. I need to get home."

Chloe hops to her feet. "Sure, Max. You comin', Rach?"

Rachel shakes her head and rises up. "Nah. I've brought my own ride."

Chloe nods and sticks out her hands to help me up. I take her hands and she pulls me to my feet.

We head downstairs to find Joyce standing in the Kitchen. She looks at me, shoulders sagged, the house-phone still hanging loosely in her hand. "I'm sorry, Max. Something's happened, and I need Chloe along too. Will you be alright gettin' back to Blackwell?"

Rachel chips in. "I can take her, Mrs P. I'm heading back there now anyway."

She grins and throws me a little bow.

"I'll meet you outside. Get that cute butt in gear." With a smirk and a wave, Rachel twirls and saunters outside. Chloe glances back at me, then follows her out.

I turn to Joyce. "Thanks for having me, Joyce."

She grins and hugs me. I try not to tense up. "Anytime, Kid. You're a calming influence on Chloe and anythin' that calms her is always welcome in my house."

I raise an eyebrow. "Even..?" We both know what I mean.

She puts up a hand. "That... we just pretend we don't know about."

I say goodbye and follow Rachel outside. Chloe is dozing in the passenger seat of Joyce's car. Rachel waves me over from the end of the drive, edges aside to show me our ride. “So, this is my baby.”

Wow. Rachel has a motorcycle. It’s some classic thing, all leather and metal. Looks like Marlon Brando should be riding it in a leather jacket or something. I always loved these old bikes. My dad... My dad had one he was always tinkering with. I loved sitting in the garage, spending long afternoons and sometimes evenings watching him play around with it.

Rachel fiddles with her feather earring and kneels, stowing it in one of the saddlebags. She brings out a jet-black helmet with the same blue feather earring spray-painted on the side and pulls it on. Cute. She throws a leg over and mounts the bike, turning to fiddle with the other saddlebag. I just stand next to the bike, lost in memories again.

She turns back to me and holds out the pinkest bike helmet I have ever seen. “And you get to wear the dorky helmet.” She laughs delightedly when I put it on. “Oh my gosh, you are so cute! Chloe said it'd suit you. I guess I owe her five bucks.”

I flush and she laughs again. “Come on, Max. Hop on.”

I climb on the back and hold on to the sides of the bike. Rachel looks back at me, taps her hips. I tilt my head quizzically. What?

She taps her hips more emphatically, so I shrug. She takes my hands and wraps them around her hips. "Hold on!"

I tighten my arms, pulling us closer together. I can feel her, warm against me. It's weirdly exhilarating. And we haven't even started moving yet. She looks back at me, the most serious I've ever seen her. "Really, hold on tight, Max."

I nod and the grinning, jovial personality slides back into play as she revs the engine.

Woah.

She eases her way off the drive and guns the engine when we hit road. We hit fifty easily, gliding around corners with ease. A quarter of a mile goes by fast on a Harley, but I wanted, no, needed something faster. I could almost feel... something. Something from the Island.

I lean in, yell into her ear. "Can this thing go any faster?"

Rachel glances back at me and grins. She stomped a foot down onto something, twisted her wrist and the Harley suddenly jumped forward, like the fifty it'd been doing before was nothing. We roared off down the streets of Arcadia. If I was more rebellious, I'd probably say we were tearing up concrete or something Kerouac-ian like that. Beat Poetry was never my thing.

But this? Wowzers, this was awesome. I wooped as we banked hard around a corner, darting in and out of what few cars were on the road at this hour. Rachel laughed delightedly, probably enjoying me enjoying the ride as much as I was enjoying it, if that makes sense.

We took another corner, harder than the last and the Harley purred. This was its element and it had a driver that knew it. We roared past house after house until we hit the main street. Rachel had to slow down a little to avoid us splatting onto the windshield of some family's sedan, but she sped right back up again afterwards.

I start to recognise more roads now. We're on the road to the school. Rachel banks hard, swerving suddenly into the Blackwell Lot and rolls to a smooth stop at the bottom of the stairs. I hop off the bike and hand her the helmet.

"So?" She asks, teasing grin on her face. "Have fun?"

I grin and nod. "Hella."

She laughs. "Hella? Man, Chloe is a terrible influence."


	7. Shopping and Shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> So, first of all, sorry for the month since the last update. Uni work was kicking my ass and I had to knuckle down to get everything done. Kinda used to it now though, so hopefully next term should be better. Plus, this story is just the hardest of the bunch to write. No idea why, it just takes freaking ages to get whats in my head out onto Evernote (My word processor of choice.). Probably my whole non-superhero thing coming into play, I guess. Harder to get a handle on the tropes and whatnot. Anyways. Whatever reason, it's harder, so it takes longer.
> 
> This particular chapter bit came from watching Wild Child. Which is actually a half-decent movie, surprisingly. Some of the scenes just fit in with these three perfectly, so I went with it and it seemed to turn out ok. Your mileage may vary, so let me know.
> 
> Also yes, Mr Dunn is the 'math' teacher in this universe too. I'm using the same Blackwell Staff in each story featuring class time. I also have no idea what the fuck a logarithm actually is. I know you use it to calculate PH (Acid/Alkali scale), but that's about it. The joke attached is an old one my GCSE Chem teacher told us back in Secondary School. Anyone else got 'funny' teacher-jokes/anecdotes? I'd love to hear 'em if you got 'em.
> 
> Finally, anyone played/seen Walking Dead Season 3 Ep 1 Pt. 1 yet? Just finished it and it's freaking awesome. A real return to the Greatness of Season 1, IMO. No spoilers for any of you who haven't, but it is awesome and you really should get on that soon.
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

"Wait. What's a logarithm?"

"Kenny Loggins' first album?"

Oh goddamn... Seriously? I turned and glared at my most annoying table-partner. "Hayden..."

He shrugged, throwing me a cocky, self-satisfied grin. "What? It probably was."

I rolled my eyes. Wowzers... "Fine. Then how do we get out of The Danger Zone and solve the assignment?" That was the only Kenny Loggins song I knew. What? He was never my thing before the island, and it was hard to keep up with the charts there.

He snorted. "Heh. We're gonna need Lady Luck to solve some of this stuff, Max."

I turned and glared at Brooke, who was writing furiously on her own assignment. Unlike us, Brooke could actually math. I think Mr Dunn put us with her in some vague hope talent would osmose from her to us. No such luck. "Brooke."

Nothing.

"Brooke!"

Nothing.

"BROOKE!"

"Aaaa!" She screamed and flung her hands up, dropping her stuff everywhere. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. These people are so nervous. Being that jumpy on the Island would get you killed. Patience was vital. She blinked at me, eyes wide. "What? What?"

Hayden chuckled. I smiled, trying to be... calming? I never really got much practice, before or after the island. "Could you help us with these, please? We're... well..." I paused. "Stuck."

She cocked her head. "Seriously?" I rolled my eyes. Yes, Brooke. Not everyone is as good at this as you. If only we were working on Vectors or Geometry. I knew how to use those. They actually had a practical use, unlike Kenny Loggins. "Ok, I guess. Dana? Are you stuck too?"

Dana just hmmed, still looking down under the table.

Brooke's eyes narrowed. "Dana!"

Dana's face shot up, eyes flashing in panic. "Yes, what? Huh?"

Hayden chuckled. "Brooke's gonna help us out with getting out of The Danger Zone."

"The what?" Dana frowned, looking between us all. "What Danger Zone? Is something wrong?"

I rolled my eyes. This was gonna be a long lesson...

\-----

I was back in my room picking up some books for my next class when Chloe wandered in. She grinned, neon bright smile. "Heya Maxie. Me and Rach are skipping today. You up for some hella fun shenanigans?"

I smiled and one eyebrow shot up. Oh dog... "Shenanigans?" I asked, my voice tentative.

Rachel sauntered into the room. "Absolutely. So get that cute butt of yours in gear. We're not taking no for an answer."

I looked between the two of them, both grinning like happy idiots, and sighed. "Yay, shenanigans?"

"That's the spirit, Maxie. This is gonna be hella fun!" Chloe grabbed my hand and dragged me out, barely giving me time to grab my stuff as Rachel followed us out, laughing and closing the door behind her.

\-----

I was a little concerned by the matching grins the other two girls sitting in the truck wore, but I figured I should go with it. Make an effort to reintegrate or whatever. The song Chloe is blasting echoes uncomfortably in the small cabin. They seem unfazed, dancing and singing along gleefully.

I decide to risk indulging my curiosity. It might've killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. "So... where are we going?"

Rachel threw her arm over my shoulder and it took everything in me to keep the Hunter inside. It did scream and rattle at the bars of the cage I kept it in in the back of my mind though. "Well, first we're going to American Rust for a little R'n'R. After that..." She shrugs. "We'll see where we end up." She flashes another brilliant grin down at me.

Chloe takes a corner far too fast and I slide further into the curve of Rachel's shoulder. She grins down at me and winks. I shuffle away, avoiding her eyes as she smirks. She folds her arms and leans to the window, watching the scenery go by.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye. Rachel was... curious. She was free and breezy, all grace and curves and easy smiles. I think I get why Chloe likes her.

Chloe pulls up outside the junkyard with a screech of brakes and a slight burning smell that I'm pretty sure is coming from the engine. I follow Rachel out of the truck and we all walk towards this shitty cinder-block shack. I look up at the boat as we pass and share a grin with Chloe, remembering the swordfight. We didn't think about how it ended. "I still want a rematch y'know, Nerd."

Rachel rolls her eyes and keeps walking as Chloe and I stop to trash-talk.

I smile over at her, then clench my fist. "You'll get your ass kicked again, Price."

She laughs and swaggers over to the open shack door. "Nah, bro. You're going down."

We walk into the shack to see Rachel has already started the party. She's staring out one of the.. well, I hesitate to call them windows, because there's no glass in them, they're just window-shaped holes in the walls really. Whatever they are, she's staring out of them, blunt in hand.

Chloe clatters over and plonks down next to her, putting out a hand for the joint. Rachel hands it over. Then, she focuses on me.

"So, Maxie, how are you enjoying Blackhell so far?"

I shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

"You guess?" Chloe asks, tilting her head at me.

"Well, I've only really had a day there. You did interrupt my second day." I smirk at Rachel, who has the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Not enough time to really love it or hate it."

Chloe thought for a second, then nodded. "Hella good point. What about...?" Her mouth curled like she'd eaten something sour. "Shit. Uh..." She clicked her fingers and pointed at Rachel. "Creepy beard photo-guy."

Rachel snorted. "Mr Jefferson."

"Yeah!" She grinned. "That dude. Mr Jefferson. How's he?" She smirks at Rachel, then looks at me.

I shrug again. "I don't know. There's just something... odd about him."

Chloe elbows Rachel, cocky grin plastered on her face. "See? I told you he was creepy."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "He's not creepy, he's just... dedicated to his work."

"Yeah, sure. So was Ted fucking Bundy." Chloe hops to her feet. "Back in a minute. I need to race like a piss-horse."

Rachel snorts. "Piss-horse... That sounds like the worst metal-band name."

Chloe laughs as she leaves. Just me and Rachel now. She passes over the joint.

I take a deep breath in, feeling the warmth of the smoke spread down my throat. "I see why she likes you."

I suddenly choke on the smoke. Uh, what? I try to talk, but just end up spluttering. Rachel laughs. "Come on Max, if you choke and die in here, how am I going to explain it to Chlo?" I snort and she grins back.

She reaches over and takes the joint. She takes a drag and leans back against the wall. "You're not at all what I was expecting, Max."

I stare. What? What's she talking about?

She laughs and takes a drag. She takes the joint from her lips. "I..." She starts.

"Max! Rach!" We hear Chloe yelling.

Rachel cocks her head. "What the..?" She frowns. "Chloe?!"

We rush out to find out what the fuck she's yelling about, and find her lying on the tracks running alongside the junkyard, frantically pulling at her ankle. "Help! I'm fucking stuck!"

Rachel's eyes bulged. "Shit!" We run down there. I kneel down next to Chloe, whos still trying to get free. Something in her clothes had caught on the track. Fuckfuckfuck.

"Rach, come on. We've gotta pull her off!" Rachel looked alarmed, but she nodded and took hold of Chloe's right. I took her left and braced myself. "Pull!"

We yanked as hard as we could until Chloe started whimpering. "Shitshitshit-stop!" We let go. "Ow, fuck. I think my leg got caught in it too."

I leant back and looked down at Chloe. Fuck. I looked to Rachel. "What the fuck do we do now?"

That's when we heard the train.

\-----

Oh... fuuuuuck. I bent my head back to stare at the train coming at us hella fucking quickly. I looked back at Rachel, who was yanking at my arm hella hard. "Oh god, Max! Please get me out, please!"

Max stood up suddenly, and started running.

"Max! Where the fuck are you going? Need a little fucking help here!" I yelled after her as she scurried off to who fucking knows where. I yanked my leg a few times and grimaced at the pain. Like, I'm a badass and all, but that shit hurt.

Rachel was still yanking hella hard at my shoulder, which was starting to go kinda numb...

Max never stopped, just called back "Just be ready to move when I say!"

What the fuck is she doing?

She went over to this box-thing next to the track. She stopped and swore, grabbing at something on it. She ran a hand through her hair, then looked back at us. She turned back to it.

I blinked and the box was suddenly open. Max was digging around inside it for something.

Then, I suddenly flew backwards.

\-----

Rachel yanked Chloe backwards just moments before the train roared past. Their hair flapped about like crazy in the jetstream created by the train.

I ran back over once it had passed. They were both just sitting by the tracks, looking at where Chloe had been. They looked up at me when I stopped next to them. We all looked at each other, then at the tracks, then back at each other again.

Then we just laughed. "Holy fucking shit I cannot believe we survived that."

I stood and watched as Chloe just threw her arms around Rachel. "Holy shit. You two just saved my life."

Rachel laughed and hugged Chloe back. "Nah. If anything, we saved the train from being smashed by your rock-hard skull."

Chloe snorted. "My rock-hard abs, you mean." She pauses, runs a hand through her hair. "Still. Seriously guys... thanks."

Rachel took a deep intake of breath, then let it all out slowly. "Well, that's more than enough excitement for me. How about we head into town?"

\-----

As someone who'd lived apart from the world of capitalist materialism for the better part of five years, the next few hours were utterly bizarre to me. I could describe them in detail, but weirdly, they all came together as a music video montage to an Avril Lavigne song.

We were in an indie clothing shop, stocking entirely vintage 'threads' as the sign above the door proudly proclaimed. Rachel was laughing and selecting clothes for me. When I asked, she laughed and told me I was her new "Pet Project."

I came out of the fitting room to a frown and a cocked head from her. "Hmm. It's good, but there's something..." She clicked her fingers and her eyes flashed. "Got it! Back in a minute!" She disappeared off into the store.

I wasn't sure whether to be offended or thankful for her attention. Currently, I had a red and black plaid shirt over a white tank top with a band logo I didn't recognise paired with black cords. I was checking the fit in a mirror when Rachel crept up behind me (I'd heard her coming a mile away, despite the loud rock music blaring the shop.) and put a necklace over me. It was a feather, kind of like her earring.

She bopped me on the nose and grinned. "Now you're perfect."

I looked back in the mirror. This outfit would get you killed on the Island. Nothing blended with the surroundings. But when Rachel leaned over my shoulder and grinned at me in the mirror, I couldn't help grinning back. "It's not bad..." I admitted.

She laughed, all low and pleased. She leaned in again. "Not bad? Darling, it's smoking."

I flushed and she laughed again. Fucking tease. "Ok, Maxie, lets find you another one." She sauntered off into the racks. "Oooh, how about this?"

I rolled my eyes and went back to change back.

*Flashback Begins*

The Hunter cocked her head, listening to the echoing sounds of the caves around her.

Footsteps...

Something new had entered her domain.

Her head tilted curiously. The Hunter had perceived no new threats in the tunnels during her last sweep. What could this new threat be? She turned to the cat, curled up against one wall of their cave. "Holly! You hear it?" Her voice sounded rough, almost alien, even to her.

The cat raised its head to look at her silently for a moment, then cocked it and listened. She nodded and moved to her feet, quietly grumbling.

They exited the cave, careful to replace the camouflaging rocks, then she and the Panther crept out into the dark realm they called home. Whatever it was, if it was a threat, it would fall to her blade, as all other intruders had.

She followed the sounds easily. Whatever it was, it was not subtle. The footsteps, like all loud sounds here, echoed for miles in the silent corridors.

The Hunter finally found the source in a tunnel right at the edge of her claimed territory. She'd prawled down it, stopping when the sound of muted footsteps and voices alerted her to immediate danger. With a gesture, she told The Panther to hide, then climbed up to the roof of the tunnel. The Hunter was pushed back as her mind ran with possibilities. Could it be the Miners, out on another expedition?

Lights came around the corner, not from torches or fire, but from goggles, strapped to the faces of a half dozen armoured individuals. As they closed, she recognised the armour, with the familiar logo plastered across the breast and shoulder plates. Prescott agents.

One of them was talking.

Loudly.

Idiot.

"What I wouldn't give ta have a gun down here." The man jumped as something skittered past them. "These things" He waved his sword. "are fucking useless at range."

With a wave from the guy in front, the group stopped and the lead soldier strode up to the talking man. "You're new, aren't you, Private?"

The man nodded. "Yes, sir. Just transferred in last week."

The leader leaned back, one hand dropping to the pommel of his own sword. "Yes, I thought so. Well, Private, did you get the briefing about the gas in these tunnels?"

The private nodded again. "Yes sir."

The leader leaned in, clearly enjoying lording his position over the other man. "Well then, do you particularly enjoy being burnt alive? Or do you just dislike your comrades enough to want them burnt alive? Or are you just a suicidal fucking idiot!" He hissed in the other man's face.

The Private flushed. "No sir. Sorry sir."

The leader nodded. "Good. Now, shut up and get back to position, Private."

The patrol reformed and continued down the corridor. The Hunter watched them until they were just below her. The Hunter had a faint feeling of amazement. These patrols had been feared for their swiftness and silence. Others had talked of them, claiming they never made a whisper until they caught you. But The Hunter had spotted them easily.

She dropped into the middle of the patrol.

The light from the two torches carried by members at each end of the group created impressive shadows as she landed, she noted. The Hunter's mouth curled in a prideful smile as the two soldiers closest to her whirled on her and drew their swords, shock evident on their faces.

They closed in seconds, both swinging at her. She ducked under one man's blade and her own slid home between the plates of his chest armour. With a growl, she pulled the blade out and swung at the second. Her blade bit viciously into his neck, followed by a gout of blood as she pulled it free.

The other three stopped out of her range, drawing their own blades. Definitely soldiers. None of them even spared a glance for their fallen comrades. They circled her warily, one of them probing her guard every so often with an extended blade she slapped back with a twist of her wrist.

She kept her eyes on all she could, watching for any opening. She found one in the form of a wobbling blade. She grinned. Excellent. She feinted forward, snarling and howling to emphasise the attack. The soldier, more of a child really, panicked and almost dropped his blade. The Hunter ran him through without a thought and spun around, ready to face the other two.

Sharing a quick look, the other two closed on her, trying to get under her guard before striking. She swung at the last soldier, trying to rattle him, but he blocked and pushed his blade against hers, both trying to wrestle the other into submission as the edges scratched and screeched together like nails on a blackboard. Sparks flew as the blades scraped back and forth, each vying for a foothold that would find victory.

Though it took longer than expected, she found her foothold soon enough, leaving just The Hunter and a single enemy left. She knocked him off balance, then grabbed him from the ground, pulled him up to her face. Looking into the visor, she saw a pale face and terrified eyes looking back at her. The talkative private.

The Hunter howled. "Victory!"

She growled and threw him across the tunnel. He slammed into a wall and slid down it, body falling to the ground. The Hunter turned to slink away when she heard the patter of feet. She spun just in time to see a soldier running off down the corridor. The Hunter made to pursue, but she stopped. No point. They'd find out about the lost patrol sooner or later and no creature out here but her used a sword.

They were coming.

*Flashback Ends*

I stepped out to Chloe and Rachel both coming back with two armfuls of clothes. Rachel thrust a few items at me and put the rest down on a nearby table. "Try these next, Maxie." She quirked a smile. "You'll look so cute. Like a pocket punk."

I rolled my eyes as Chloe laughed gleefully. "Yeah, Max. Hop to it! I hella wanna see that."

Chloe and Rachel both pick out a few things themselves and head into the booths to either side of me. I shrug and head back in. I hang the clothes up and take a look. Wow. This outfit feels very Chloe. Skull tee and ripped jeans under a patched plaid button-up. I can see Rachel's influences though, with the silvery feather earrings and a silk scarf.

I sigh and start changing.

I come out just before the others. Another skill I'd picked up on the Island. You had to be ready to move at all times. I could go from sleeping to leaving in three minutes. It'd saved my life many times.

Rachel and Chloe both came out at the same time. From Chloe's inquisitive look, I think she might've been waiting for Rachel. Cute.

Rachel strikes a pose, every bit the aspiring model. She poses like she's on a magazine cover, all perfect and untouchable. Chloe, on the other hand, is... somewhat less poised. She looks like she's leaning on an alley wall, trying to light a joint. Without the wall.

They look at each other and laugh, then over to me, expectantly.

What the hell. I go for it.

I look off into the middle distance, dropping a hand to one of my hips, which have a slight gunslinger tilt to them. The other hand goes up, like I'm doing the 'little teapot' dance thing. "Ready for the mosh pit, shaka-brah."

Immediately, Rachel and Chloe both bend over laughing.

What? Did I say it wrong?

They laugh harder.

Yep. I definitely said it wrong.

When I asked, Chloe just wafted at me, still laughing. "Nah, Maxie. That was fucking hilarious."

Rachel starts selecting a new outfit for me. I catch a vague glance of pink feathers and shudder. You have no idea how glad I was when the store girl came over. She was a typical disinterested teen, long brown hair with a streak of blue and a vacant stare. "We're closin' in five. Ya gotta pay or go."

Rachel slumped slightly. "Aww." She sounded disappointed. Surprisingly, I was too. This was... fun. One of the normal growing up things I never really got to do before. They started sorting their purchases, putting aside what they didn't want.

I looked over to them. "Uh, guys? I'll meet you outside. I need to use the bathroom." Rachel nodded. "Sure thing, Maxie." She looped her arm around Chloe's. "Come on, Chlo. Let's go pay for your punk shit." Chloe held up her selection, a couple of band tees I didn't recognise the logos of and a skull beanie. The last thing I hear as they saunter off is Chloe saying "Shit? Pfft. This stuff is hella quality, Rach. Look at that little skull."

I headed to the bathroom.

*Flashback Begins*

The Hunter was wary once more. It'd been so long since she arrived in this place, fleeing from them. Now, they'd found her again. Or rather, she'd found them.

Regardless, they knew she was out here and it was only a matter of time until they came for her.

The Hunter would have to fight harder than she ever had before to survive. She ignored the mental image of the city, a possible retreat, remaining dedicated to her isolation.

She stepped up patrols for the next few days, setting traps and checking routes, preparing for what she inevitably knew to be coming.

They finally came, along the same path as before. The Hunter found them checking over the bodies of their comrades. These soldiers talked lower, quieter. So, they were the elite, not those who came before. These were the fast, silent hand of Prescott. She waited patiently for them to move again, continuing down the corridor.

They advanced closer and closer, every one of them checking everything with bright lights. But The Hunter knew these corridors far better than they did. She knew how to hide. A natural predator.

She watched as the lead soldier walked under a towering natural archway. That's when he hit the trap. He screamed and clawed at his face and armour, trying desperately to scrape off the Cloaker venom that now covered him.

The others panicked immediately, rushing forward to help their comrade. All except two, who hung back. The minute the patrol stood by their comrade, the second layer of traps set off and thick, black smoke billowed into the corridor, blocking them all from view.

The Hunter smiled, closed her eyes and dropped into the middle of the patrol.

She felt a surge of pride at the shocked expressions on the two closest members as they whirled on her, their own blades drawn.

All of The Hunter's instincts screamed as the five uniformed men closed in on her. They paused, just out of reach and she smiled. Then, she moved.

Within seconds, the five men were dead by their own blades. The Hunter's own was still securely in its sheath. The man splattered by venom was dead, face covered in burns. Even his armour had been eaten away.

The two remaining members of the patrol stared at her, with almost bored expressions that even the Hunter recognised. The Hound and his Mistress. They were a duo always assigned to collecting errant subjects, like The Hunter. Others that had been 'recovered' had claimed it was impossible to lose them once they'd gotten your scent.

The Mistress leaned back, crossing her arms as she surveyed her dead men. The Hunter dropped back, one hand going to her sword. "What... what are you doing here?"

She smiled. "We are here to ensure your return to The Compound." She waved to her companion. "And be aware that if you do not, Mr Palmer here will be forced to hurt you."

The tall, cruel man beside her glared at her with an air of professional pride. "I don't hurt people, I kill them. You know that!" To The Hunter, he sounded like a petulant child, complaining to a parent of some perceived sibling insult. The Hound always did have his pride...

The woman rolled her eyes. "Well, then it's time to expand your resume."

The Hunter snarled, hand dropping to her still-sheathed sword. A warning of what was to come.

The Matron's voice took on a cool, calming tone. "You don't want to fight us, Max. We're here to help, to take you home... You must be tired of these dark corridors."

The Hunter... I... I could feel my resolve weakening. I was tired. So... so tired. The Matron continued, her mouth curling into a smile. "The Doctor will be glad to have you back. Ratigan has so missed his favourite daughter."

The Hunter's instincts screamed. Her eyes snapped up to meet The Matron's. The Matron had made a mistake, and she knew it. The point of The Hunter's blade rose and she spoke. "I..." Her voice was rough, unnatural. The Hunter was unused to talking, her voice now rasping through old, no longer familiar sounds. "I am not going back!"

The Matron sighed and raised her blade. Beside her, The Hound's blade rose too. "Such a shame. Dr Moreau will be so disappointed. Very well."

They both lashed out, one for each flank. The Hunter ducked under one blade and barely parried the other. This was going to be a hard fight. She was one person, against two working in concert.

The Matron, despite her name, was young and strong. Far stronger than The Hunter. But she couldn't match the blinding speed of The Hunter's weapon as it danced around hers, searching for any opening it could find.

The Hound was pressing hard on her right, strikes slowly building up in speed. They'd talked about this, back inside. He was patient, always patient. His blade started off slow, testing, then used its own momentum and flowing grace to build up in speed. The Hunter found herself being pressed back. Neither blade had struck her, yet, but she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep blocking.

The Matron's blade sliced across her ribs, cutting a thin red line across her skin along with what remained of her jacket. The Hunters blade flicked out, poking into The Matron's wrist. She slunk back, grinning wickedly at her small victory. The Hound was still accelerating, blade becoming a near-invisible whirl as he cut and slashed at The Hunter.

He hadn't cut her, but the few strikes he had made would leave deep, wicked bruises. No matter what The Hunter tried, she couldn't hit him. Every time she thought her blade would draw blood, a simple twist from The Hound diverted her strike.

In the time she'd been here, The Hunter had never lost a fight. But she knew to run when it was truly hopeless. So, she threw a knife in the face of the Hound and fled.

Taking care to avoid pursuit, The Hunter made her way home.

"We can't stay here anymore, Holly." The Panther mrowled, cocking her head in confusion.

"They came back." The Panther's head straightened, her dark eyes reflected what The Hunter herself felt. Resignation.

This oasis, this haven they'd found for themselves was no longer safe. They had to go.

The Hunter packed what little she had and opened up the cave. With the Panther at her side, she never looked back, heading straight for The City.

*Flashback Ends*

\-----

We were waiting out by my truck for Max to come out when the assholes popped out of fucking nowhere. I was gonna beat their fucking asses until I saw one of them had a knife.

What? I'm tough, not stupid. No way I'm getting stabbed again. They demanded we "Hand over the cash, bitch." and waved the knife. One of the others had a bat. They backed me and Rach up against the truck.

I glared, but even I gotta admit, it was hella shitty. "Back off."

They laughed. "Back off, she said."

"Yeah, I heard her. You think we should?"

The knife guy grinned. "Nah. Her, maybe." He waves at me. "Have you seen her truck? She ain't got shit." Asshole. "But this one..." He points the knife at Rachel, who's just standing there, watching him like a fucking cat watches passing people. "She's a fucking rich kid. One of those fancy Vortexers..." He waves the knife. "Give us your stuff, girlie."

Then, Max just appeared out of fucking nowhere. "Leave them alone."

One of the guys laughed. "Well lookee here, boys. Looks like our lost lambs got themselves a fucking bodyguard. You gonna stop us, girlie?" He lashed out at Max with his knife.

The minute he stepped up close, Max's hands flashed out, grabbing the guy and spinning him around and throwing him back into one of the other guys.

We all just stood there for a sec, blinking as Max stared at the guys. She smiled, just a little. That's when it hit me. Max really had changed.

Now, she was dangerous.

She grins. "Come and have a go, if you think you're hard enough."

The douchebag with the bat takes a vaguely experimental swing at Max. Her hand flashes up and grabs the bat, pulling the guy forward. He stumbles, and Max knees the fucker in the balls.

When he falls to the floor, the knife guy takes a huge arcing swipe at Max. She blocks his arm, avoiding the knife hella carefully. Her hands fucking slam into his chest, pushing him back a few inches. She follows him forward, throwing a punch to his gut. He buckles, but tries to swing again. Max just grabs his arm, pulling the knife towards the other guy, who hella barely dodges it. It scrapes along his arm instead of going into his stomach.

The bat guy's gotten back up and comes at Max from behind. Fucking cheater! But Max doesn't bat an eyelid.

Heh. You see what I did there?

Anyway.

He swings down at her head, like he's trying to hammer a nail into the top of it, but she just pushes back into him. He fucking wheezes like a popped balloon when her elbow sticks into his stomach. She ends up right in the little triangle gap between his arms and the bat ends up colliding with knife guys hand, knocking him enough he drops it.

Max grabs bat guys hands and swings them. Holy shit, she must be hella strong to do that. He's like, a foot taller than her. The bat collides with knife guy's head, knocking him to the floor. Then, Max headbutts Bat Guy with the back of her face.

Is that still a headbutt? Or is it like... a back-headbutt? I dunno. Whatever.

He swears, something about his nose. When Max rolls away from him, there's blood pouring down his face.

I grin.

Max twists back onto her feet and does that weird hand curl thing Morpheus does to Neo in the Matrix. She smiles, baring her teeth. "You're gonna have to try harder than that."

The three assholes look at each other, then run off. Max runs over to Rach's side, helping her up. I just lay there, blinking in fucking shock. Max offered me her hand. I looked up at her. "How..?"

She shrugged. "I know how to fight. They didn't."

"But there were three of them!" I point off at where they ran off. "Three! And they were fucking bigger than you!"

I took her hand and she pulled me up. "Three idiots."

Rachel hugged her. "Thanks, Max." She pulled back, focused on her, hella intent. "That was amazing."

Max flushed, looked down at her feet, shuffling one of 'em. "It wasn't..."

I interrupted. "Max, you probably saved our fucking lives. It was hella awesome." It really fucking was.

I walked forward, wrapping one arm around Rach's shoulder and the other over Max's. "Now, I need noms. We gotta celebrate Maxie saving us, right Rach?"

Rachel nodded, smiling at Max. "Definitely. Come on Max, we insist."

Max shrugged, still looking at the ground. It was so weird. She'd been completely confident fighting those assholes, but talking to us and she was as shy as fucking ever.

\-----

Chloe grinned. "You should've seen her, Mom! She just" Chloe demonstrated with a weird 'ker-pow' punch thing, probably from some movie I'd missed. "and wham, they were on the ground!"

Joyce eyed Chloe over the counter as she slid the waffles over to us all. This was an expression I'd recognised. It was something Joyce had perfected years back. Chloe and I called it her "Are you shitting me?" look. Very Samuel L. Jackson.

Apparently, Rachel knew it too and she shrugged, offering an explanation. "It's true, Mrs P. Maxie probably saved our lives, right babes?"

I blushed. Damn it. "It's nothing."

Joyce looked over at Max. "Don't sound like nothin', Max."

Chloe raises her milkshake. "Yeah, Max. You did hella good. And you hella helped pull me off the fucking track, too."

Joyce's eyebrow raises. "Tracks? Chloe, I thought David told you to stay away from the Junkyard."

Chloe rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Yeah, and I always listen to step-douche."

Joyce snorts and looks over at me. "Well, even if it was nothin', thanks for keeping Chloe here out of trouble." She eyes Rachel. "Lord knows this one ain't so good at that."

Rachel grins. "You know me so well, Mrs P." She laughs. "Besides. The trouble is half the fun."

Joyce rolls her eyes and wanders off to serve another customer.

Rachel turns to me, huge shit-eating grin on her face. "It is true though, Maxie. You're our little freckled hero today." She stretches out and ruffles my hair. "Muggers, trains..." She grins and whirls on Chloe. Their eyes meet and they both chant. "Faster than a speeding bullet, can leap buildings in a single bound, it's... SUPERMAX!"

I flush again. Damn it.


	8. The Mystery of Max

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> So, um, yeah. This should've been up, like, 5 or 6 hours ago (It's like, 4 am here.) but I got distracted playing The Turing Test. It's a puzzle game that's kinda like Portal meets Event[0]. It's really, really goddamn good, highly recommend it to alla y'all. It's on steam, btw. Oh, and The Blackwell Job will be up tomorrow. I'm just waaay too tired rn to answer reviews, so yeah. Tomorrow.
> 
> Secondly, sorry to say, but there's gonna be a very likely update gap next week as I have uni shit to do. Should be updating the week after though (the 24th), so stay tuned. Sorry again.
> 
> Also, just as a final note, I know the bit with David is a tad out there, and all I'm gonna say on that is that I finally decided which side I came down on adding superpowers in this. Take a wild guess which side. I've even worked out a proper origin story, too. Kinda sucks though, 'cause I've now got a full idea of the Island flashbacks and shit, but pretty much no clue where I'm going with the present-day plot.
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

"...So, go find your partners for this assignment. Remember, twos only please. Let me know your pair and you can leave." My head flicks up. Wait, what was that?

Rachel snorts, pushing off the wall she was leaning on to sit against the desk. "You do drift so easily, don't you Maxie?"

My eyes drop to the floor and I blush as Rachel laughs lightly. "You are so adorable. It's a competition, Maxie. We've got to 'collaborate on a photo to show the theme of bonds'" She singsongs, rolling her eyes. Jefferson had clearly been emphatic on that point.

"You will work with me, Maxie? Won't you?" She leans in, her elbows on the desk, her head balanced on her hands, batting her eyelashes. She's so... coquettish. "I think we'd work so well together, don't you?"

I give a nervous little laugh as her full attention is focused on me. I nod, mutely, not trusting myself to look at her. I know I'll just end up blushing.

Her grin expands. "Awesome. I'm sure we're going to win." She leans in and kisses my cheek, then saunters over to Jefferson, utterly carelessly.

I flush.

Again.

Damnit.

I hurriedly pack away my things and head over to the door. Rachel ambles over to me and throws her arm over my shoulder. She smiles down at me. "So, Maxie. Do you have any ideas?"

I shrug. "Not really. I'm a bit out of practice."

She smirks. "Fair enough. Shall we get together later to plan?"

I nod hesitantly. Being alone with Rachel was still... awkward. I was still really fucking curious about what she was going to say yesterday in the shack. She flashed me a dazzling smile and I kind of... What was I thinking about? "Fantastic." She clicks her fingers. "Oh, and before I forget, are you still coming to the party this weekend?"

I nod again, even more hesitantly. Truth is, I was incredibly nervous about it. They were dark and loud and cramped and I was terrified I'd lose control. But I had to try. Readjusting, right?

She smiles. "Awesome. So, me and Chloe usually turn up fashionably late, so we'll pick you..."

My phone vibrates in my pocket. Shit, I need to go. I pretend to quickly check my watch and cut her off mid-sentence. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I've got to go. We'll talk later, 'kay?" I don't wait for a response and just head off, ignoring her confused "What the..?"

\--

I head back to the dorms, being careful to keep my head down and stick to the shadows. I don't want to attract any attention. That's when I spot Kate.

She's just outside the dorm gates, being harassed by... David? What the hell?

I walk over, my footsteps barely a whisper, and stand behind David. I tap him on the shoulder. He whirls, glaring at me. "What?" He relaxes. "Oh, it's you. What do you want?"

I point over his shoulder. "Go."

What? The direct approach always works.

He stares at me, jaw dropped. "What the hell?"

I stare him down. "Go."

He blinks at me in shock. I focus hard on him, staring straight into his eyes. He tries to match me, but quickly blinks. "I... uh... what?" He shakes his head and mutters "You'll regret this, kid." while backing away from me.

I smile and watch as he leaves. See? Told you it'd work.

I turn to Kate. "Uh, Kate? Are you..." That's as far as I get, before she wraps her arms around me and jams her face into my neck. It takes literally every bit of control in me not to flip her.

She sob-talks into my neck something I don't understand. I stand, my arms flailing for a second as I try work out what the hell to do while pushing a screaming Hunter back into it's cage.

"Um. There, there..?"

She pulls back and smiles, rubbing at her eyes. "Helping me is getting to be a habit of yours, Max. Thank you."

I shrug. "Don't mention it. What did that asshole want, anyway?"

Her shoulders slump. "He's a total paranoid ass." I tilt my head. She looks down at her feet. "He, uh... thinks I'm doing drugs with the Vortex Club."

I almost laugh. He thinks the devout Christian who runs abstinence groups does drugs? Wow. "Why the hell would he think that?"

She sighs. "Because he saw that stupid video."

I raise an eyebrow. "What video?"

She stops, turns and looks straight at me. "You mean... you haven't seen it?"

"Kate, I just got back two days ago." I offer an awkward smile. "I've not even seen The Walking Dead yet. So, what happened in the video? Something bad, right?"

She laughs, coughing as it turns into a sob. "Yeah, Max. Something bad. I went to some Vortex Party and ended up making out with a bunch of people. I don't even remember it! And now my family have seen it and my church have seen it" She starts talking faster and faster. "and they all hate me and I don't know what to do and I..."

I interrupt. "Kate. What happened? Do you remember anything at all?"

She shakes her head. "Barely anything. I... I remember getting sick and dizzy, but I barely drank anything. And then I talked to somebody, um, Nathan Prescott?" Prescott... "He said he'd take me to hospital. So, I got in his car and then I don't know..."

She takes a deep, shuddery breath in. "I remember waking up somewhere. It was a bright room, with a voice talking to me."

"Did you recognise it?"

She shakes her head. "No. It was all soft and far away. I couldn't really make out what it was saying. I thought it was a hospital, but then I heard Nathan too and felt a sharp pain in my neck and... and..."

"And?"

"That's all I remember! I don't know what happened! I woke up outside my dorm room the next day!"

I put my hand on her shoulder. "I'll look into it."

Her face flicks to me. The hopeful disbelief in her eyes makes me slightly nauseated. What the hell has this girl been going through? "You... you will?"

I nod. She smiles, bright and radiant. "Oh thank you, Max! Thank you!"

She throws her arms around me again. I freeze for a second, then put my arm out and tap her shoulder gently a few times. "There there. It's going to be okay."

I look up. We're at her Dorm door. I push her away, still trying to be gentle. "Kate, I need to go now. Will you be okay?"

She nods, still smiling. "Yes, Max. I think I will. We'll figure this out, right?"

I nod. "Right. Bye Kate."

She smiles, then turns and goes into her dorm. I head back to mine to grab my things, then head back outside. I take off at a run, speeding away from Blackwell towards the mines.

\--

"Hey Rach!" I sped up, speedwalking over to where Rach was just stood, staring off towards the Blackwell dorms. She blanked me, like she didn't hear anything I said. Fuck it. I prodded her hella hard in the shoulder.

Heh. She yelped and fucking jumped.

I laughed. "Shit, Rach, what the hell? I've never gotten the jump on you like that before?" I pause. "Did I get bit by a radioactive ninja and get hella awesome ninja skills?"

Rach snorts and turns to look at me. "You wish, Chlo. I'm just... distracted."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, is Jefferson around?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "Fuck off, Price. What's up?"

I shrug. "Fuck all. You busy? Was gonna head to American Rust, wondered if you wanted to tag along?"

She tilts her head. Probably checking the mental list of places she had to be. Sucked that my best friend was the fucking 'town daughter' and was hella constantly in demand, but whatever. I'm used to that shit.

We turn and start to head off to my truck when two guys wander over, ignoring me and going straight for Rach.

Shit.

Rach grins and leans back, hands in her pockets. "Hey dudes. 'sup?"

I roll my eyes. Fucking seriously, Rach? I watch as she shoots the breeze with Justin and Trevor and glare at all fucking three of them. Don't get me wrong, those guys are awesome normally, but around Rachel, they're just more members of her fucking fanclub.

But, after a few minutes of glaring and head-nodding whenever Rach looked over, they got the message and left.

Rach grinned and shrugged sheepishly at me. "What?"

I shake my head. "Come on, let's go before more of your adoring fans show up."

Rach smirks. "They do adore me, don't they?"

Goddamnit Rach.

\--

I pull up at the edge of the junkyard and hop out. Rachel saunters after me and we head over to the shack.

I flop down on the sofa and prop my feet up on the table. Well, planks on cinder blocks, but it's pretty much a table. Hella urban-chic or whatever. I pull out a joint and light up. Rachel sits on the floor, back against the sofa.

I offer her the joint. She smirks and takes a hella huge drag. "So, Max is..." She stops and takes another drag. "Quiet." She frowns. "And really, really good at climbing out of windows."

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what she was getting at. Powers of best friendship, right? "Well fucking duh, Rachel. She spent the last five years on a fucking desert island. No way she's gonna be all sunshine and rainbows and shit after a week."

Rachel nodded thoughtfully. I knew that look. She was... pondering. "You make a good point, Price. But still. Somethings up with her, Chloe. She's hiding something. Don't you wonder where she goes when she disappears all the time?"

I sighed. Seriously, Rach? I thought you were supposed to be the one that was all empathetic and shit? Why am I getting this and you aren't? "Probably somewhere to hide from all the shit that's happening. You being so hella fucking nosy probably isn't helping either, dumbass."

She sticks out her tongue. "But she's so... mysterious. Which is my thing!" She practically jumps up and down in her seat with excitement. Shit, I've never seen Rach this fucking animated. It's hella weird. "So, I've just gotta find out what it is she's hiding!"

I roll my eyes again. "Seriously, Rach. Just leave it the fuck alone, ok? She doesn't need you poking your nose into her shit."

She breaths out hella deeply. "Fuck it. Fine. Friendly, charming and beautiful, non-invasive Rachel it is." She sticks out her tongue. "Spoilsport."

I snort and take the joint from her. "Damn fucking right, sparky." I take a drag.

Like, twenty minutes of random bullshit talk and a few joints later, I ask. "So, is she still coming to the party?"

Rachel frowns. "No fucking clue. I was asking, but she just..." She paused. "Poof. Disappeared."

I grin. "Poof?"

She nods. "Yeah! She just checked her watch and like, 'had to be somewhere'." She slumps a bit, leaning her head back on the couch. "Who does that?"

I snort. "Uh, you?"

She frowns up at me from the floor. "What? No I don't."

I shrug. "Dude. Yeah, you do. You're always disappearing and shit."

She snorts. "Yeah, but that's to keep up my feminine mystique. Max just sort of... goes."

She wafts her hand at me and I hand over the joint. She takes a drag.

Nobody talks.

"So... how 'bout them knicks, huh?"

I sigh. "Fucking hell, Rach..."

\--

I vaulted the fence and trotted along the dirt-track. I headed past another two wooden fences, both barely holding together. There was a sign above my head. 'Arcadia Bay Mine'.

The outside of the mine was utterly empty, except for the occasional patch of weeds protruding through the gravel. I stopped and surveyed the area, checking for eyes nearby. Nobody was watching.

Good.

I walked straight through into the dark cave mouth.


	9. Squish-squish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> First, I wanna apologise profusely for the ridiculous delay for this update. My internet got fucked for a while and it kind of still is, but it seems to be holding for the moment. Long story, much apologies, here ya go. Hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> Secondly, there won't be an update of any story for the next two or three weeks, methinks. I've got about four or five deadlines in the next month to meet and I just don't have time/energy/sanity points to write alongside that. I will be trying to work on the Airplane Job though, so that'll hopefully be popping up by the end of that time. Should be late March/early April-ish. Likelier to be April than March, but I dunno. Shit is kind of all over the place right now.
> 
> Oh, on that note, I've been talking to a couple of you about how the current Airplane Job link is... nicht so gut. Either it doesn't work, or its inaccessible, or a couple other problems that I don't know how to fix. Luckily, I found the best way to fix problems like those is to promptly ignore them and start working around them instead. I found an actual online program for writing these stories called Inklewriter. It's a little harder for me to use, but it'll be easier for you guys to access and play through, so I'm gonna give it a try. The next story update I have will let you know what the link is/where to find it if fanfiction .net keeps being a little bitch about links. I'm currently reworking (and editing, so be sure to check it out even if you've played before) the first 'episode' (Woo, delusions of Telltale Grandeur) and starting on the second (Planning it atm. I've got a hella big piece of paper with all these little boxes drawn on so I can track scenes and whatnot, it's so fucking cool.). Hopefully that turns out well, so alla y'all got that to look forward to, I guess. :)
> 
> Also, just on an interesting note, I found out that Arcadia Bay is based on an actual place in Oregon called Tilamook Bay. The posters for Arcadia Bay are almost identical to pictures of Tilamook, it's awesome. Anyways, other than the whole QI-ish "How cool is this?" moment, I'm also gonna start using this for any geography stuff in any of the four stories. Like to say how long it'd take to get from The Bay to Portland, for example. ('bout an hour and forty-five minutes, in case you were wondering.).
> 
> The Greatest Thing on the Entire Internet. Seriously, watch this.  
> https://www. youtube .com/watch?v=o0u4M6vppCI  
> ("Shia LaBeouf" Live - Rob Cantor)
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

I trot out of the cave and take a look around. Still nobody about. Fantastic. I straighten my clothes and take off at a run for the town. Four and a half miles, give or take. Easy terrain, should take me 18 minutes. (AN: According to my maths, this should mean Max runs at only slightly slower than the fastest woman's mile, which is Svetlana Masterkova at 4minutes 13seconds. I did fail A-Level Maths, so I could be wrong though.)

As I run along a back street near Chloe's house, my phone rings. I quickly stop and duck into a back alley. The ID says Rachel, so I pick up. "Rachel?"

"Hey, Maxie. What's up?"

I frown. What? "Um." I look up. "The sky?"

She laughs, all high and melodic and I get the vague feeling I've missed something. "So true. So..."

I wait. She doesn't continue. "Uh... So?"

She laughs. "I thought you'd never ask."

What.

She sighs, deep and soul-consuming agony, and continues. "So, Chloe is busy at work and can't play and I am so fucking bored." She says this like it's the greatest tragedy ever to hit mankind. "You want to hit the beach with me?" Her voice is enticing, all sugar and honey. From what Chloe says, that's never good. Means she's 'planning something'.

I frown. "The beach?"

"Uhuh." I can practically see her lazy half-grin in my mind and I know what it means. Trouble. But refusal never enters my mind. Rachel wasn't someone you ever wanted to say no to.

"At..." I check my watch. "8pm?"

She laughs. "Sure! Why not?"

Why not indeed. I shrug. "Okay."

"Awesome. So, I'm at Blackhell right now, but the sooner you get that cute little butt over here, the sooner we can hit the beach. That sound good to you, babe?"

I blink, still utterly baffled. "Uh. Okay?"

She laughs again. I'm still missing something. "Awesome." She repeats. "See you soon!" She hangs up.

I take the phone away from my ear and stare at it for a few moments. Huh. Definitely still missing something.

Well, I have somewhere to be, I guess. I turn and run for Blackwell.

\--

I hugged closer to Rachel as the Harley purred beneath us. She was swerving in and out of the late evening traffic with ease, the bike responding to her every move exactly.

Cars wooshed past us on both sides, blowing the little tufts of Rachel's hair that stuck out from under her helmet. I stared, semi-entranced by the little fluttering motions. Rachel caught my eye and winked.

I found myself grinning back. The bike was fucking exhilarating! Rachel bent low to the bike as we banked hard around a corner, revving the engine. I looked out over the countryside flying by. Heh. I really missed this place...

*Flashback Begins*

I wandered through the wilds, The Hunter maintaining vigil over her surroundings while I searched desperately for the telltale tap-tap-tap of the miners. Now the Hound and his Mistress had found me, they would never cease the hunt.

It took two days, but eventually she found them, excavating a large vein of ore and chattering excitedly. The Hunter found she could not understand them, but the words plucked at her heart like nothing she'd heard since she came to this place.

Although the Hunter's instincts warned against remaining, she found a perch high in the rock and watched their activity. When the time came for them to leave, she ignored The Hunter once again and trailed them, careful to stay out of their sight at all times.

The trip was largely uneventful. She followed the caravan for days on end. She had no idea exactly how many. They had a brief skirmish with a few creatures of the underground, where The Hunter aided them, picking off a few foes on the edges of the battle.

By the time they finally returned to the city, The Hunter had rescinded and she was in control once more. She watched them follow familiar long-practiced motions as they climbed the stair and loaded their carts onto the conveyor.

The Hunter froze as the miners climbed the stair, instincts screaming at her to retreat, to do anything but go up there.

She took the stairs and stepped out into the radius of the bright hall lights. The guards, all gathered around the doorway, immediately whirled and drew their weapons. An interesting mix of polearms and swords were pointed at her. The Hunter screamed to kill them, show them our dominance and strength. It was the way of our world, after all.

I pushed The Hunter down and raised my hands in a gesture of surrender. I could only hope that, in their panic, they would understand. As I curled my mouth into an unfamiliar smile, I reached a single hand down and undid the clasp of my weapon-belt.

They fell to the floor and I went with them, dropping to my knees as they closed around me. They jumped back when the Cat padded out of the darkness, but one recovered quickly enough to fire off a bola at her. I resisted the urge to fight back as the ropes wrapped around her. This was painful, but necessary.

I looked up at one and smiled, trying to seem... friendly? The miner's face immediately creased in panic and he struck her across the head with his weapon.

The last thing I, or The Hunter, saw as we drifted into unconsciousness was the two stone doors opening to reveal a city hidden inside.

I smiled, and let go.

I had denied the brutal truths of The Hunter's existence... and now, finally, I could be free.

*Flashback Ends*

A car roared past us, creating an air draft that made the back of my coat billow and Rachel's hair flutter even more. I shiver at the chill air blowing down my back and pull tighter to Rachel.

We're riding along the beach road, waves to our right and the town to our left. We've left the traffic behind now, with only single cars passing every few minutes or so.

My eyes leave the scenery and move to Rachel. Fascinating, confusing Rachel. The girl who my best friend had called hers for the last five years while...

While I was away.

I sigh inwardly and look back out to the water. No point in dwelling on shit I can't change.

She twists something and the bike starts to slow, drifting along the beachfront until it hits a smooth stop right in the assigned bike-spot. Rachel turns, pulling off her helmet and throws me a smug, self-satisfied grin.

I hop off the bike and offer my hand to help her down.

Rachel takes my hand with a smile, dismounting and leaning back on the bike as she takes her helmet off. She takes my helmet and her own, stowing them in a sidebag. This done, she goes back to leaning, staring at me with a smirk. I focus on her. "What?"

She smiles enigmatically and pushes off the bike. "Be right back." She saunters off along the promenade, disappearing into the crowd.

I watch her go, then turn to look out over the bay. I didn't know how much I missed this place. I might've lived on the Island for five years, but this place is my home and always will be. A memory pops into my head, and it's so real I can almost see it.

Chloe and me, maybe ten, maybe eleven years old. We're dodging and diving through the promenade crowds, laughing and playfighting like we're actually pirates. We always were competitive. All the while, Joyce and my Mom are a little ways off, smiling at our antics.

I match their smiles. I was so happy...

Then, the memory starts to sour. The buildings burst into flames and the crowds stampede, screaming louder than any Tak hound and Chloe and I get caught right in the fucking middle.

We get pulled apart by the crowd, our outstretched hands flailing helplessly at each other as we're taken further apart. I remember the sheer terror of being knocked about by everyone, like a buoy in a tsunami.

There's so many voices around us, shouting, pleading, that I can barely hear myself think. "Find Chloe." I repeat to myself, over and over. "Find Chloe. Find Chloe." I push into the crowd, trying desperately to spot her. I finally think I catch a glance, only to be pulled away again.

I turn, and we're at the top of the cliff, up by the lighthouse. There's a storm, a freaking tornado pushing towards the town. I'm stood right on the cliff's edge, watching it tear into the town.

A scream pulls me out of the reverie and I look down. Chloe is hanging off the edge of the cliff! I reach down to try pull her up, but instead of pulling my hands latch on to hers.

When I speak, the voice that comes out of me isn't mine. It's The Hunter's growl. I grin wolfishly down at Chloe, who stares up at me, eyes filled with terror. "Long live the King."

Wait, what?

I extend my claws and tear Chloe's hands from the cliff, tossing her into the storm with a triumphant howl.

I wave a hand in the air and the storm surges forward, tearing the town into pieces.

I blink and I'm back on the pier, looking down into the water. The reflection looking back at me is like a wild beast, teeth bared and eyes savage. The Hunter grins up at me. "Hello, Max. Care to take a dip? The waters are so inviting..." It croons.

I close my eyes and it laughs. "What good do you think that will do? You are mine, little weapon, to do with as I will."

I concentrate.

The mouth curves into a grin and the teeth become jagged, clearly designed to rip and rend. "And my will is..." It blinks. "Is..."

It looks up at me suddenly, eyes panicked. "No! No! Not the cage! Not again!" It launches forward, arms outstretched, nails growing into razor sharp claws. "Nooooo..."

I slam the little box in the back of my mind shut, and dump another two or three on top of it for good measure. This is my mind. I needed you back then, but I do not need you now!

I take a deep breath and open my eyes, just in time to see Rachel ambling down the shore, something tiny in each hand.

She hands me one. I look at it for a moment. I raise an eyebrow, staring at her. "Ice cream? In October?" I feel a familiar headache I'd almost forgotten. This feels close to how dealing with Chloe's... less well thought out ideas did. I smiled, faintly. Good times.

She grins and takes a bite. "Yep."

I stare at her for a minute, then shrug. What the hell. I take a bite of my own.

Rachel leans back on the railing next to me, and we quietly look out over the bay, eating. I can sense Rachel looking at me out of the corner of her eye. I angle my head, ever so slightly, and look at her. "Yes?"

She quirks a roguish little smile. "Nothing. You're just cute when you're all brooding like that."

My cheeks flush. Damnit. She laughs, takes another bite of ice cream. "So, whatcha thinking' 'bout?"

I flail desperately for a convincing lie, but settle for a distant "This is weird."

Rachel snorts and waves her cone with a grin. Little rivers of ice cream start to trickle down the side. "No ice cream on the island?"

I laugh and shake my head. "No. No ice cream."

"So, what did you eat?" She tilts her head curiously. Her tongue darts out to catch the trickling rivers.

I... I, um... Huh? I shrug, carefully not looking at her. "Whatever I could hunt, mostly. A few plants, here and there. Most of them were poisonous, so I had to be careful."

She takes another bite and smirks. "How totally Bear Grylls of you."

I laugh. "Me, Bear Grylls? I'm flattered." I tilt my head and frown. "I think."

She snorts, throws me an amused wink. "Well, Chloe tells me you cook a mean rabbit. I'm almost entirely sure I saw him do that on TV a few times."

I tilt my head again. "She told you that?"

Rachel laughs. "Of course she did. Chlo's always talking about you." She waves a hand. "Max did this, Max did that." She takes a bite of her icecream, smirking at me over it. "It's very cute."

I flush and fumble my response, ending up spluttering and mumbling everywhere. Rachel just laughs. "It's cool, Maxie. I'm just so curious. You've kind of taken my whole mysterious enigma thing and blown it out of the water."

I frown. "I did what?"

"You're the hot new mystery in town, Max." She winks, then she shrugs and her voice and face go... different. Not sure if it's good different or bad different. Just... different. "We're all wondering 'bout you, Max. You've made quite a splash since you got back. Even the Vortex were all a-twitter" She wiggles her fingers. "about you after your little jedi-reflexes ball-catching thing. They're wondering what's gonna happen next." She smiles. "We all are."

Huh.

I don't respond, I just take another bite of ice cream, thinking over her words.

We finish off our ice cream in silence, just leaning back and looking out over the bay. I try to start conversation again. "So, Chloe has a job?"

Rachel smirks. "Surprised?" When I flush and shake my head insistently, she smiles. "It's ok. Chloe was the most surprised of any of us. Turns out her punk-rebel delinquent thing was exactly what the place was looking for."

"Where does she work?"

"Coffee of Doom." She laughs at my bemused expression. "I know, the name is kinda on-the-nose, but they make it work. The whole 'bitchy bachelorette barista' thing they've got going pulls a weirdly dedicated crowd." She snorts. "I guess some people are into that."

I hmm and look back over the bay. I can feel Rachel's eyes wandering over my face for a few seconds until she looks away. A couple of silent seconds pass and I almost don't notice her pulling off her shoes. I turn and look at her, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

She looks up at me with a pleased-looking grin. "We're gonna go walking on the beach!" She smirks. "And walking on the beach in your shoes is just the worst." She pulled off her second shoe. "How are you gonna feel the squish-squish of the sand like that?"

I can't help but smile down at her. "The what?"

"The squish-squish!" She stamped her feet on the sand for emphasis. "It's the best thing about the beach. Well," She amends. "apart from the sun."

She tosses her shoes on the ground next to me and hops up to her feet. Taking off at a run, she reaches her hands up to the sky, twirling and dancing around on the beach for a good minute or two before calling back to me. "Come on, Max!" She grins, teasingly. "You know you want to..."

She laughs at the hesitation on my face. "Come on, Maxie! Live a little!" She heads down to the water, stripping off her clothes at the edge of the water.

I trail behind, still not taking my shoes off. I just watch as she... well... splashes about in the shallows. Its kind of cute.

I start to take my shoes off, but a mental flash of crashing and screaming stops me. I... damn it. Damn it to hell. I sit down on the beach and watch Rachel play around, light and breezy and laughing.

\--

She comes out of the water a little while later. I can see her shivering as the cold October air hits her exposed skin. There's a dragon tattoo running over her right calf. One of the traditional Chinese river ones. It's bright and colourful against her skin.

Rachel quickly gets dressed, sighing with relief. "Fuck it's cold out here!" She grumbles. "So unfair."

I snort at her downtrodden expression and she grins. "Supermax, are you laughing at a poor, shivering girl?"

I shrug. "Maybe. Come on, let's get inside where its warm." I snort. "You'll dry off quicker."

She tilts her head as we head up the beach. "Not a fan of swimming, are you?"

I shrug again. I'm doing that a lot recently. "No."

Her face does the different thing again. It's sort of... soft, but curious? I shake my head slightly, not looking at her. This is not something I can talk about yet. I risk a glance over at Rachel. Her face has stopped doing the different thing and she's looking off behind me. I follow her eyes to... of course.

Rachel looks at me and grins widely. "Come on, Maxie. You know you want to."

I sigh. "Okay. Let's go in."

Her grin gets impossibly wider. "Fantastic. This is gonna be so fun!" She darts into the arcade.

I trail her in, following her over to a line of claw-hand machines. Fucking things. I couldn't even remember how many quarters Chloe and I had lost to these things.

Rachel puts in a quarter and leans over the controls, a determined look on her face. "I want that damn Charizard and I'm going to get it." I look over and, sure enough, there's a largish Charizard Plushie in the back corner of the pile. The bottom half of it is buried in the pile.

I raise an eyebrow. "You think you can get it?"

She quirks another smile. "Have a little faith, Supermax. You have your superpower, this is mine."

She slams a hand down on the start button and goes to work.

*Flashback Begins*

The Hunter jolted awake as the bars of her cell were rattled. A man was glaring down at her, the point of his spear clattering between the cell bars. He spat on her and said something she didn't understand, growling and jabbing his spear in her direction.

Even from her prone position, The Hunter's instincts took over in an instant. The man died quickly, the point of his own spear buried in his throat.

I stared in silence as the man's body fell to the floor. Damn it. Damn it all to hell.

Escape was now a necessity. The Hunter knew if they caught her she'd never make it back into a cell. Grabbing the point of the spear, she carefully manoeuvred the corpse over to her cell, filching the keys. She unlocked the door and eased it open quietly. Her cell was at one end of a long stone corridor, one of many cells along it.

The Hunter crept through the shadows of the corridor, careful to avoid the few low red lights dotted along the walls. Most of the cells were unoccupied, save two at different points along the corridor. Both occupants were deep in sleep, enabling her to sneak past easily.

When reaching the end of the hall, The Hunter closed her eyes and focused her senses beyond the door.

There were two... no, three individuals in the other room. Heavy-set and tall, by the volume and tempo of the footprints. The Hunter was unarmed, so stealth was necessary here.

She waited at the door, silent and patient, listening for footsteps. After an hour, the footsteps started to close. The Hunter caught the metallic scraping of a key turning in the lock and carefully hid herself in a patch of darkness in the corner behind the door.

The door eased open and a figure covered in feathers walked through. It headed down the corridor towards her cell. The Hunter eased the door closed behind it and trailed the creature until it suddenly stopped, alarmed and raised it's weapon, a long stick with an axehead on the end.

The Hunter blurred forward, reaching around and twisting the creature's neck. Unusually, there was no sickening crack, just a faint ripping sound as whatever was in the creature's throat tore.

She didn't let the body drop, catching it in mid-fall and dragging it quickly into a cell. Almost as an afterthought, she dragged the first man's body in there too, hiding them both under the cot.

She moved back to the door, listening again. Nothing.

With the barest exertion, The Hunter eased the door open and crept through into a larger room that looked, by the large table in the centre, the weaponry mounted over the walls and the large rack of keys on one wall, to be the prison guard-post. It was currently unoccupied.

There were two exits to the room, a closed door on the far side and an open archway leading into a corridor off to her left. She could see shadows flickering on the corridor wall and the faint sounds of voices echoing down it.

Quickstepping as quiet as she was able, The Hunter made her way to the table and began searching it for anything of use. The table was covered with an assortment of disorganised papers and drinking mugs, along with mismatched miscellaneous objects. She dismissed it quickly as useless and moved over to the wall, looking for what she needed. Her last sword was stolen, so it appealed to her that this one would be too.

Unlike the table, the wall of weaponry was well organised, so she found a sword meeting her requirements in little time. After a few experimental cuts and slashes, she stowed it at her back with a satisfied grin. It was a simple thing, a straight length of metal, without decoration or flair. A tool made for killing.

Now she was armed, The Hunter felt more comfortable in this place of civilisation. But escape still remained a priority.

She moved over to the far door, careful to avoid being seen by those in the corridor. After a minute or two of silence, she opened the door and went through. The next room was an outpost of some sort, holding very little aside from a number of weapon racks along one wall and a series of vertical slits along the other. She walked over to one and peered out through it down onto some sort of courtyard. So, she was high up, possibly in a tower, or a building carved into the cavern wall.

She focused more on the walls, trying to spot a way down. Nothing. She'd never survive a jump from this height. But the walls were finely carved, straight-edged all the way to the ground without a single obvious handhold. That settled it. She'd have to make her way down through the inside.

She left the outpost and found herself in a long corridor. Off to her left, it ended a fair distance away in a t-junction. To the right was a shorter corridor that expanded into a larger chamber with more slits in the far wall. Unlike those in the outpost, these were larger and horiontal. There was a door in the wall just before the new room's entrance.

The Hunter pushed open that door, pacing across the next room to a set of stairs going down. She made it three floors before she encountered anyone. Two guards were standing on the landing, chatting lightly. Both were armed with spears and heavily armoured.

And both were looking at her, eyes wide, as she stepped off the stair.

She raised her sword and stepped forward, swinging experimentally at the left guard. He barely managed to raise his guard in time, blocking the blow with the shaft of his spear. The other swung the point of his staff wildly at The Hunter, forcing her back towards to the stairs.

She dodged and swung back, slamming her blade into the guards side in a powerful blow that should've sliced into his gut, but bounced harmlessly off his armour. The other jabbed at her, trying for her own side. But The Hunter's instincts were fast, and the attack was too slow. She grabbed the end of the spear and carried the momentum forward, burying it into the exposed flesh under the guards chin.

The last guard fell, and the Hunter stopped swinging, panting lightly for a second. She gathered herself together and wiped her blade off on a guards' jacket, then pushed on.

The next few rooms were empty and quiet, just offices and corridors. So quiet...

She didn't hear a thing until the voice rang out from behind her.

"You really are a hard woman to keep up with." The Hunter spun, flicking her blade up in an instant. The man standing in front of her smiled, utterly at ease despite the sword tip at his throat. He was short, even more so than she was. His face and demeanour were comfortable, yet distant, and obviously so or she'd never have noticed. He wanted her to know there were things he wasn't saying.

She growled, and his smile grew. "I mean it as a compliment, I assure you. I've been doing this for a decade and you're the first gwai-wu to make it out of the cells yourself."

The... first? "More came here?"

He nodded. "Many more. Ratigan makes you powerful to where they cannot match. Your... carers are thoroughly incapable of keeping you in that place, should any of your kind put their mind to escape."

She pauses, watches the man carefully. She has spent months alone, only the panther for company. The ways of civilization are unfamiliar, after so long. She isn't sure if she should trust him, but really, she has no other choice. "gwai-wu?"

He shrugs. "Monster. What the people here call your kind. I'm afraid the children of Ratigan haven't made a good impression here. It's even worse on the surface, but its your only option."

The... "The surface?"

He nods, taking out a cylinder of dark vellum and, after a second looking around the room, unrolled it on a table pushed up against the wall. He taps a circle on the edge of the map. "There is an exit to the surface here. Around a week of travel. It will be hard, but it's your only option." He smiles. "Luckily, you will not be travelling alone."

A familiar purr attracts her attention and she turns just as a quick, lithe black form slams into her. She grins as the panther licks her face. "Holly..?" She looks up at the man. "Where?"

The short man shrugs. "She was being kept two floors away from you. It was a simple matter to get her here, once I remarked on my intent to rescue you. You have a rather remarkable animal there." The panther stands up and begins to pad gently around the room.

She looks down and nods, then back up to him. She takes a breath. "Thank you." She pauses, unsure how to ask. "Why?" Her voice is still rough, harsh, but the man smiles.

"There are those who hate you for what you are, and those who are willing to give you a chance." He reaches out and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Now, go. I will open the gate, but you must be ready." He shrugs his satchel off his shoulder and hands it to her, slipping the rerolled map back inside. "This should be sufficient for a few days at least. I'm sure you'll be able to find more when you need it."

"Will... won't they punish you?" Each word is tenuous, strange and unfamiliar.

He laughs lightly as something explodes in the distance. "I'll be fine. As I said, this is hardly the first time I've engineered an escape."

She opens her mouth to enquire further, but a second explosion blasts far louder and far closer than before. The man pushes her through the doorway. "Right on time. Go! Run!"

And she ran. Faster than she'd ever run before. The Panther matched her speed every step of the way. Across the courtyard and through several towering buildings and labyrinthine backstreets and finally through a small side gate out to the foyer leading to the great stone doors of the city.

The foyer was occupied.

A dozen armed guards were milling around in front of the entrance. Three of the feathered beings were sat on the ground with two short, grey humanoids playing something, while the other seven were in various spots around the area, laughing and talking with one another.

The Hunter smiled. They were entirely at ease, unaware their sanctuary had been infiltrated. The Panther took position to her left, watching the guards with an implacable gaze.

A scan of their foes revealed the need for a frontal assault. They were between her and the door and The Hunter could see no other way to get through them.

She sighed, resigned to the necessary course of action. She steeled herself and drew her weapon, preparing to charge the door, trusting the Panther to follow.

Just as she started to move, a call sounded, a deep, resonant baritone from deep in the city. It sounded once, twice and then once more. The guards looked up, their faces shocked, chattering amongst themselves. They collected themselves quickly, charging off into the city proper and leaving the gate unprotected.

The Hunter smiled. Her recently-made friend certainly was effective. She hurried over to the doors, keeping to the shadows wherever possible, and waited.

Two teeth-clenching minutes later, the huge stone doors creaked open, revealing the familiar stair. With a hasty glance checking for pursuit, The Hunter fled into the dark caverns, The Panther at her heels.

She had a destination, now. And she was not going to let anything stop her getting there.

*Flashback Ends*

\--

"Fuck!" She curses, loudly and a bunch of people look over. She shrugs at them with a sheepish grin. "Sorry."

She glares through the glass at the Charizard, still sitting at the back of the case. "Smug little bastard. Damn thing keeps dropping." Another quarter goes in, sacrificed to whatever Demon lives in these fucking machines. "Ok, that was a warm-up. I can do this."

She tries again... and fails. Again. I laugh at her irritation, clearly showing when she hits the case. "Damn it!" She scowls. "The thing is probably stuck on something." She slumps, dejected. "Shit." She looks really sad...

Damn it.

I ease her out of the way and take the controls. "I need a quarter."

"Max?"

"Quarter." I repeat.

She looks at me for a second, then slots a quarter in. I concentrate, then let the Hunter take the reins. She starts to move, manoeuvring the claw with tiny dexterous movements.

I can feel Rachel tense next to me, eyes following the claw as it moves, then flicking to my face, focused and determined. I can do this.

I rotate the claw, getting each hook in the right place over the Charizard's head, then... I fire.

The claw grabs down on the head and pulls, wiggling it out of the pile. Both of us take a quick breath in as it starts to rise with the claw. It drops. Rachel swears again.

I give her a confident smile. "Just a warm-up."

She laughs and elbows me. "Smart-ass. Just don't drop it this time. That's my last quarter."

I drop a second quarter in and push the start button again. This time, I manage to get the claw around the Charizard's torso. I pull the vertical lever enough to get the plushie out from the pile, then slowly and carefully guide it over to the depository. I let it go.

It drops straight into the chute and Rachel cheers. I reach down, pull the toy out of the slot, and hand it to her.

Rachel grins back at me, then leans in and kisses my cheek. I flush. Damnit. "Thank you, Maxie. I never doubted you for a second."

I eye her, one eyebrow raised and a shit-eating grin on my face. "Uh, yes you did. Right there in the middle when it dropped."

She snorts. "Lies. Never happened." She looks up. "We should probably get out of here. The moms are glaring at me like I'm 'corrupting their children'." I look around and she's right, there are a few older women glaring over at us. Probably due to the loud swearing.

I nod, "Okay", and we head out into the darkness.

I look over at her as we stroll down the beach. "So..." I start. "What do we do now?"

She looks over at me with a teasing grin. "It's getting late, Maxie. Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" She taps her imaginary watch. "It is a school night."

I snort. "Har har. I'm good." I can go without sleep for a lot longer than she can.

She smirks and I'm not sure if I'm imagining this, but she looks pleased. "Awesome. How 'bout we head to the diner?"

I grin and nod. "I could go for some waffles."


	10. Underground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> Oh shoot, I completely forgot about this! I've no idea why I didn't put this up yesterday with Firewatch, but I suspect I was too drunk to reply to reviews (on FF.net, not here. I write them into the ANs.) and I refuse to update without replying to y'all. Just feels hella rude. Anyway, sorry about that. Here ya go.
> 
> So, reading this over, this chapter comes off as kind of a menagerie showcase of the weird and wonderful monsters I've added to my little world. And, well, it partly is. Mostly, it's just me wanting to get Hunter!Max out of the underground and onto the surface without needing three chapters worth of flashbacks. If you don't like this one, that's okay, it's just a necessary evil to get the past story to where I need it to be. So, yeah. Snippets of an Underground Journey to the surface. Enjoy.
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

Something is close enough to touch her.

Something is close enough to kill her!

The Hunter jolts back to awareness, drawing her blade and launching back into a roll. She landed on her feet and surveyed the small chamber she and the panther had slept in the night before.

There's... nothing?

The Hunter frowns, concentrates for just a moment. Her head whirls. There it is again! A slight, ever so faint pat-pat-pat-thuk of feet on stone. Something was definitely moving around her, but she couldn't see anything.

She took two experimental steps forward, swiping her sword through the air. Nothing. She catches a glimpse of something at the entry to her home. A large beast, perhaps nine feet long. It was catlike, similar in shape to the panther, except for a pair of long tentacles sprouting from its shoulders.

The Hunter recognised it instantly.

Dirlagraun! These creatures were an uncommon sight in these caves. In fact, she had only ever fought one before, in one of the many tests she'd been put through back in the lab.

They had a peculiar ability to bend the light around them, disguising their location. The illusion was limited to their immediate vicinity, so the creature was within five or six feet.

She closed her eyes and focused her hearing, listening for the telltale pat-pat-pat-thuk of it walking around. After a few moments, she manages to narrow it down. Left, or right. The sound echoes around the tiny chamber, but she was certain. Left, or right.

pat-pat-pat-thuk-pat-pat-pat-

The Hunter whirled, blade slicing in a wide arc through the air to her right. Noth- Something hits her side, knocking her off her feet. She swipes frantically, grinning almost maniacally when she feels her sword cut through something.

A tentacle falls to the floor.

The weight jumps back, narrowly dodging a second attack. The Hunter curses and climbs to her feet. A jolt of pain lances through her chest, making her wince. Damned creature. She swipes in its direction, grinning again when she hears it squeal suddenly. She jabs forward, feeling the slight resistance of her sword biting into flesh at it slid home into the thing's chest. With a grunt, she slid the thing off her sword with her foot.

She sagged, feeling the ache in her muscles.

Left.

It was to her left.

Damn it.

\--

The Hunter and the Panther both crouched inside a recess in the wall of the wide tunnel they had been travelling down. The glow ahead worried her. In the caverns, light could be indicators of both danger and safety. But they had no other option. The last alternate route was five miles back.

The Hunter took a deep breath and turned to the Panther. "Danger ahead. Be ready." The panther mrowled and nodded.

The next cavern was... beautiful. Huge crystals of pure white mineral towered above the Hunter and her pet. They jutted out from the floor, walls and ceiling in all directions, forming an intricate lattice through the cavern. After a moment of appreciation, the Hunter scanned the room. She could see no exits and no obvious path through. She carefully planned her next few movements, using long hours of training to predict angles needed and pressure required.

Her plans complete, she sheaths her sword, carefully securing it to her side. She takes a deep breath in and runs forward. She flips over the first crystal, slides under a second and narrowly avoids slamming into the third, flailing as she falls to her left. She lands in a roll, coming up onto her feet. There was a crystal lying straight across her path, perhaps six feet thick.

She looks behind her and to each side. Blocked in all directions.

The Hunter closes her eyes, then moves once more. She sprints forward, leaping and planting both feet onto a crystal. She pushes off and flips, landing on another crystal and immediately pushing off again. When both feet land on a level, horizontal surface the Hunter opens her eyes to see the Panther standing next to her on a huge horizontal crystal.

She scans the room again, this time noting a tunnel around thirty feet in front, ten feet above above them and another ten feet up to their left. The walls underneath them were almost sheer rock, with no way for her, or the panther, to climb up.

After a moment of thought, she pulled her sword and tested it against a crystal. It took a significant effort, but she managed to carve out a series of small footholds, allowing her to climb up to a higher horizontal crystal. Now at a better angle, she looked over to the exit tunnels once more.

The Panther jumped up from the lower level, landing neatly on the crystal beside her. She looked down at the panther. "Hey, girl. You think we can make that?"

The panther looked over at the tunnel, then back at her. She mrowled. The Hunter grinned. Of course. Their hard experiences in the darkness had given them a shared confidence. She took a deep breath in, then threw herself from the crystal, windmilling her arms and legs to help continue her momentum.

She looked down and, for a heart-wrenching moment, wondered if she wouldn't make it. If this would be it.

That's when she heard the deep, echoing rumble from behind her. The crystal she had been standing on had crumbled, slamming into the others around it. The bottom dropped out of her stomach as the crystals dropped like dominoes around her. The panther was hopping across the shards as they fell, nimbly keeping up with The Hunter's path.

She crashed into the side of the wall, barely hanging on to the edge of the entrance with her fingertips. As she screamed with the effort of clinging on to the sheer cliff, something dark and fast flew over her head into the corridor above. She loses grip with one hand and the Hunter's instincts wail with alarm.

She pulls herself up and rolls onto the floor of the tunnel, looking up into the Panther's concerned face as she gasps for air.

She laughs for a few delighted seconds. She survived! When the adrenaline-fueled laughter trails off, she curses. The noise will have carried for miles in the cold, still air of the caverns. She gets to her feet and strokes the panther, then turns and hurries off into the caverns. By the time any creatures drawn by the noise arrive, The Hunter and her panther were long gone.

\--

The chamber was high and wide, its ceiling high above them and a lake of green-glowing, foul-smelling liquid bubbling and hissing twenty feet below. Dozens of spindly, interconnected walkways crisscrossed around the cavern, most leading to a series of tunnels heading off in every direction.

The Hunter peered over the edge, thinking on the strange liquid below them. After a few moments, she used her sword to hack a chunk of stone from the wall and tossed it into the pool. The liquid hissed loudly where the rock hit, bubbling and spitting and eating away at the stone before it even drops from sight.

Acid. Thrice-damned Acid.

She glanced upwards searchingly, looking for the telltale marks of run-off pipes. They were scattered throughout the region, pumping out whatever waste the labs above needed to get rid of. She found them, forty feet above. Luckily, the pipes were closed, leaving her free to navigate without further obstacles being placed in her way.

After a glance at the map, she picked an exit that should lead towards her destination. The map was inexact and the caverns were labyrinthine at times, but she'd lived in them long enough to develop certain navigational instincts. All of them told her that it was the right way.

She started out onto the walkway, walking a few steps ahead of the panther. The walkway held under her weight, but The Hunter saw no sense in taking chances. She stepped as lightly as she could across the walkways, carefully manoeuvring around the weaker-appearing, slightly crumbling sections as they made their way together towards the tunnels on the opposite side of the cavern. They had made it to the cavern's centre without issue when they heard a strange chattering sound.

The Hunter stops, sliding her sword out of its sheath on pure instinct, scanning the cavern around her for the source of the noise.

A tall, lithe creature steps out from one of the many side-passages. It was shaped like a human mixed with a bird. It had jet-black feathered skin and a raven's head. Both of its arms ended in hooked claws and both of its legs ended in black three-toed crows feet. A second creature stepped out behind it, then another, and another.

As the crowd grew, the chattering became louder and clearer. They were chanting over and over. "Kill. Kill. Kill." The horde began to disperse out onto the walkways, walking at first, but occasionally breaking into hurried trots, their anticipation clear.

The Hunter spared a glance behind her. The bird-men were there too. In minutes, she and the panther were completely encircled by chanting bird-men.

None of her tests had covered these... creatures. So, she'd have to resort to the basic solution. The Hunter raised her sword. The spindly walkways were not an ideal place for battle, but she had no hope of escaping without a fight.

With a bloodcurdling shriek, the bird-men rushed her, never breaking the rhythm of the chant "Kill. Kill. Kill."

The Hunter waited patiently for them to enter her range. The bird-men were happy to oblige, charging her without fear or concern for self-preservation. The chant had grown to a shout, the repetitive beat of their words echoing off the walls. As the Hunter's blade moved, those words became screams.

In seconds, three bird-men had died to the Hunter's blade as she pressed forward into the crowd. The panther stayed close to her, batting those she missed into the acid below. The hunter bent and cut and swiped her way through, calmly and gradually working her way forward.

As she closed on the exit, the hunter became aware of something. The birdmen were standing back, hesitation where once was suicidal aggression. She was missing something. These creatures had something planned.

She let her arms move of their own accord, flying through the familiar patterns, and cast out her senses.

She dodged the rock falling down above her only seconds before it crashed into the walkway, shattering it into pieces as rock, walkway and a dozen birdmen fell down into the acid pool. She landed in a roll and came up swinging, killing two birdmen before she'd even regained her feet.

She looked up and saw another three rocks fall, each with a birdman clinging to it.

The panther had ended up on another pathway thirty feet away. Her momentum had carried her straight into a pack of birdmen, bowling two of them right off the walkway. She then engaged the group, swiping at them with her claws and biting with her teeth. Unfortunately, this group was too much for her, and she quickly disappeared under the sheer mass of bodies.

When The Hunter saw the panther fall, her anger increased tenfold. How dare these creatures harm her friend? With a loud scream of rage that echoed more than any shriek the birdmen had let out thus far, she threw herself into the crowd, pushing and cutting and stabbing her way to where she saw the panther fall.

She turned with a snarl and kicked the birdman off the walkway. Then, she started forward again, cutting her way through the horde. The horde never let up their assault. Whatever these creatures were, they clearly couldn't learn from their mistakes. The Hunter dispatched them with ease.

She reached the panther in minutes and, seeing her covered with cuts and bites, made a split second decision. She hoisted the panther up with one hand, carrying her over her shoulder, then renewed her push towards the exit.

The panther did what she could, but it was ultimately unnecessary as the Hunter cut her way to the exit, running off into the tunnels with the cries and screams of the birdmen echoing behind them.

\--

After they'd gotten far enough from the birdmen's cavern, the Hunter stopped, finding a smaller closed-off side passage to hide in. Gently, she placed the panther on the ground and began to check over her wounds. They were small, but many, and would need to be treated. The Hunter was aware of certain herbs growing in the region which would be useful, but she couldn't keep the panther safe while looking for them.

So, ensuring the entrance to the panther's tunnel was well-hidden, she set out into the surrounding caverns to search for the needed herbs.

When she heard the echoing clack-clack sound, she immediately froze. This was another sound she recognised. She didn't know this one's name, but she knew it was dangerous. She would need to eliminate the threat before she could return to the search.

With her heightened senses, it did not take her long to find the noise's source.

A huge form stood at the edge of a cavern, tapping its great claws against a rock. Every few taps, its mandibles clattered, creaking the distinctive clacking.

She took a moment to examine the familiar creature. It was easily double her height and twice her size. In place of humanoid legs, it had four large, segmented scorpion legs. Those four legs were matched to four huge arms, the lower two of which were tipped with large claws. The creature's entire body was covered in a serious of armoured chitin plates, rendering it a tough foe indeed. According to her lessons, the creature had a single weakness, a single gap in the armour on the back of its neck.

She crept along the outer walls of the cavern, taking care to remain as quiet as possible. The creature was distracted by its game, so that would be her chance to strike. If it noticed her, dispatching it would be much harder.

A sudden shriek pierced the air, and The Hunter immediately backed away from the creature as it turned. For a second, she thought it'd seen her, but the turn continued past her until the creature was facing the cavern exit.

A dozen green and grey-skinned humanoids charged in, shrieking like a bath full of cats, all armed with a mish-mash of black-stone weapons. The Hunter had seen these beings before as well. They were offshoots, failed versions of herself that the Foundation had discarded when they lost their usefulness.

They were, well, insane. The processes the Foundation had put them through had snapped their minds, leaving them driven by the primitive instincts of animals. These ones looked... hungry.

They immediately swarmed the clawed-creature, fanning out and surrounding it in seconds. They hurled themselves at the creature, swinging and howling, without thought. Apparently, The Hunter concluded, they lack the instinct for self-preservation.

She sat back and watched the fight. The offshoots fought with wide, uncontrolled swings of their roughly-made weapons. The claw-creature, surprisingly, fought with a precision even The Hunter admired. It darted and shifted and blocked every attack, using the very minimum amount of force and movement needed.

The Hunter frowned. Why wasn't it attacking?

The one she'd been pitted against had fought with strength and speed, and a distinct lack of the dexterity this one was demonstrating. Maybe her training had been less thorough than she had believed.

It was a worrying thought.

But there was no time for that now, she had to remain vigilant. When the fight ended, she could pick off the weakened victor.

She watched as one of the offshoots, now one of only seven remaining, managed to duck under a swung claw and dart forward, jabbing its sword into the claw-creature's gut. Surprisingly, it pierced the carapace and bit into flesh. The claw-creature screamed, a loud, piercing wail of pain, and pulled back. The sword snapped, leaving half of its length still embedded inside it. The creature kicked out and sent the offending offshoot flying into a wall, where it bounced off with a satisfying crack and flopped down onto the floor, lifeless.

The others didn't spare a glance for their fallen comrade, pressing their attack harder in response. The creature seemed to be tiring, unable to keep up its defence as blades slashed and cut into it.

She sat in the darkness, waiting patiently for the fight to end. It was the law of the caves. Only the strongest survive.

The claw-creature took out another two offshoots, but it was getting hammered by the others. They managed to push it back, until its back was against a wall and they were surrounding it.

They tore into it with their blades until the carapace broke, cracking in long jagged lines across its body. When the claw-creature fell and moved no more, they dropped their weapons and dived forward, pulling open the cracks further until they could feast.

When they were all distracted and disarmed, the Hunter rose from her hiding place. She stalked forward, her footsteps silent, and raised her sword.

Entirely focused on their meal, the offshoots never saw her coming. When she left the cavern, none inside were left alive.

The law of the caves. Only the strongest survive.

She found the herbs after a short search, then returned to her injured friend. With these herbs, the panther would heal quickly, and they could resume their journey once more.

\--

The cavern was dominated by a peculiar structure hung from the ceiling by several cables. The Hunter stood on the floor of the cavern below it, examining the building. It looked to be a series of cubes attached together to form the greater structure. Every surface was unbroken and smooth, and all of it was the same metallic-grey colour, except for a single logo painted onto the side.

The Hunter hadn't seen these herself, but her instructors had mentioned them. The Foundation sent out mobile labs to the caverns. This appeared to be one of them, which would mean... She paced around the cavern, looking for the telltale glow of the laboratory door. She found it quickly, a painfully-bright orange square dominating most of one side on the central cube. The square of light was a forcefield, utterly impenetrable except for those in possession of the Foundation's keys.

The Hunter did not have one, and she had no wish to tangle with the occupants of the lab. They could tell the Hound and his Mistress where to find her. So, she turned and stalked out of the cavern, the panther at her heels.

\--

The tunnel suddenly opens wide into a huge cavern. The air gets markedly colder as they move further into it. In front of them lies a vast field of small, white-yellow stones and shards, intermixed with larger grey boulders. The two stare out over it, but neither of them could see the other side.

On a hunch, The Hunter leans down and picks up one of the white-yellow stones.

Except, they weren't stones.

This entire field was filled with bone.

The shards are soft, rounded and ancient. The pit had been there long enough that any indications of whatever these bones came from had been eroded away long before. The Hunter swears softly. She had no idea how deep, or how far this bone pool went.

She kneels at the edge and stares out over it, looking for a route. The walls were a possibility, but an unlikely one. She'd be reliant on finding good handholds, leaving her helpless if there were none.

Out the corner of her eye, she noticed something in the field. A chain of smallish shapes, sticking up out of the pit. She followed the path along with her eyes, mapping out routes back to her side. Unfortunately, the shapes stopped further out from her side than she could jump.

She'd have to go into the pool.

She took a moment to take a breath, then The Hunter simply waded in. Her feet couldn't touch the bottom, but she found herself able to stay near the surface. Sinking into the pit would be a risk, but she had to take it. Going back was not an option.

She pushed forward, listening carefully for any sign of opposition. The panther paddled along next to her, looking very, very uncomfortable. If she hadn't been concentrating on staying up, she might've laughed.

The Panther beat her to the first stone, climbing desperately up onto it. When she climbed up, she found it wasn't a rock. It was a wall, ancient and broken. Something had been built in this cavern, before the bones filled it.

She was pondering what these buildings could have been when The Hunter caught a sound. It was light, only faint vibrations, but it was definitely there. Could it be something on the other side? Was she walking into further danger? Or was it...

A wide section of the pit exploded upwards, sending shards everywhere and pelting the Hunter and the panther with many of them, as something burst out of the pit beside the two companions with a feral scream.

The thing, whatever it was, looked like a person that had been grafted together with an octopus. A short pair of malnourished-looking legs dangled uselessly as the creature's body was held aloft by two huge tentacles that burrowed back into the pit. Two more tentacles extended from its shoulders like a scorpion's tail.

The Hunter dodged sideways just as one of those tentacles darted out, slamming into the spot on the wall where she had been seconds before.

She swore darkly, then made to draw her sword. This was a terrible place to do battle, but she was unlikely to be able to get anywhere better. She held the blade out in front of her, waiting for the creature to attack again. It was happy to oblige, slamming its tentacles down again.

She quickly dodged left, then hacked at one of the tentacles, eliciting another feral scream from the creature. It swept the tentacle along the wall towards her then, when that missed her, pushed out from the pit in a blur of motion almost too fast to be seen. The tentacles smoothed out behind it, giving it an aerodynamic shape as it dived over the wall and disappeared into the pit on the other side.

The entire cavern was quiet for a few seconds, until another scream sounded and the creature burst out again, swiping at The Hunter with its tentacles.

She let the instincts of The Hunter take over fully, leaping forward and onto a tentacle, running along it towards the creature's body. The creature flailed and she fell, barely managing to catch herself on one of the sharp barbs that lined the inside of the tentacle's length, legs dangling below her as she hung from the tooth. It cut into her hand, but her grip never wavered.

The creature's head immediately flicked in her direction, the two milky-white orbs of its eyes rotating wildly in two different directions as it swiped another tentacle at her. Its mouth opened, jaw spreading in two insect mandible-like segments as it let out another scream.

The Hunter saw it coming and dodged, twisting her entire body around through the air, her flip arcing her above the tentacle. At the apex of her arc, she twisted again and fell straight down onto the tentacle, straddling it like a horse. The creature screamed again, then tried to scrape her off. She jumped to her feet and ran up the tentacle she was standing on, instincts driving her feet to continue and stay ahead of the other tentacles now coming in at her from multiple directions.

When she reached the thing's shoulder she swiped at the flickering and fast-moving head, eliciting a scream and a gout of blood that burst from where she struck, but she never stopped, just kept running past and down the other tentacle, flipping off it and onto another standing wall. When she landed, she spun to face the creature once again.

The thing's tiny body was covered in blood, and where once was two, now only one mandible remained. Both eyes were still flickering about wildly as it screamed, desperately searching for her.

She took a quick glance around the cavern, looking for any path available to her. This wall was too small to make a good position for fighting. Her mind linked the standing walls and stones, mapping out routes and diversions, anything she could use to get somewhere better.

There was nothing in jumping range. She'd have to go back into the pit, albeit only for a short time. But the minute she moved into it, the creature would hear her and strike. She caught sight of the panther on the opposite side of the creature, crouched and coiled, ready to pounce. She nodded, and the panther leaped onto the creature, clawing at the joint where one tentacle was connected to the main body.

The creature screamed, flailing desperately to get the panther off. This was her chance. She dove off the wall and took off at a run. There was enough surface tension in the bones for her to make it to the next wall. As soon as her feet were down on solid ground, the panther released from the creature and pushed off it, landing easily on a larger stalagmite.

The creature whirled and struck out with a tentacle, knocking the panther off the stalagmite onto the bone. When the Hunter's thrown blade pierced its shoulder and she grabbed hold of it, pulling herself up onto its shoulders, the second attack it was attempting on the panther was forgotten in favour of removing her from its back. It took a swipe at her with both upper tentacles. They came in at her like the blades of a pair of scissors, trying to peel her off its back.

As she twisted and wrenched the blade about in the now-gaping wound, one of the tentacles fell, ripped straight off the body. The other continued and the Hunter didn't move quickly enough to avoid it. She was knocked off the monster and onto the bone, like the panther. When she landed, she landed hard and all the air blew out of her, keeping her down for a few seconds. The panther leapt from her position at the thing's back again, swiping with its claws. She missed and flew past, but it was enough of a distraction to buy the Hunter the time she needed.

Recovering quickly, she grinned up at the monstrosity, now with only three tentacles. It snarls and flails wildly with its other tentacle, batting her across the bones until she collides with a stalagmite, a sharp pain flashing up her spine. She jumps up onto her feet, and clambers up the stalagmite. The thing, seeing what she's trying to do, pulls its tentacles in again and moves to leap over her. Seeing it coming, she thrusts her sword up in the air as the thing hits its apex, grinning when it squeals in agony and disappears under the bone again.

When it reappears, she gets a good luck at the damage she's done to it. The throat of the small, suspended body was ripped wide open, its flesh hanging like a half-zipped jacket, revealing rows upon rows of teeth lining the inside of the throat. It snarls and the teeth quiver.

She draws her sword and slashes in the air, looking to keep the thing distracted as she spots the panther climbing up onto a broken wall behind it.

The panther snarls and the creature's head snaps back with a sickening crack, chittering for a second, then screaming as the panther leaps. The remaining shoulder tentacle lashes out, catching the panther in mid-air. She extends her claws and latches on as the monstrosity shakes the tentacle about, trying to dislodge her.

Seeing an opening, the Hunter throws her sword again, leaping and grabbing hold as it slides in to flesh. The skin on this side must have been weaker than the other, as she feels the blade start to tear through skin and she falls down onto the bone pit, sword now raised up toward the creature.

She drops down harder than before, and her feet sink a few inches into the pit. Immediately, she tries to pull them out, but... the bones seem to be pulling back, pulling her down into them. She wrenches her feet up and runs for a wall, anything to get away from the bones.

She pushes off the ground and leaps, climbing up the wall as fast as she could. The Hunter did not like to be restrained, not even for a second. She... I... Never again. Never, ever again.

A scream draws her attention behind her. This one wasn't from the creature, but from the Panther as the creature slammed the tentacle she was clinging on to into a wall, knocking her from it. The panther landed on the wall with a screeching howl of pain.

The Hunter saw red. Her instincts, her drive for survival, they all fall aside, replaced by burning rage. She charges forward with a scream of her own, leaping off the end of her wall and bringing her sword down in a shattering arc onto and through the thing's shoulder. It cuts through the flesh like butter, opening up most of the creature's torso, down to just above it's stomach. Were the Hunter thinking at all, she would've been glad for that. Disembowelling a victim was effective, but the subsequent smell was barely tolerable.

Both of the creature's white eyes snap back, focusing on her for a few silent seconds. Then, its tentacles go slack and it falls backwards to the pit with a crash, where it settles for only a moment until the bones start to reach up and pull it underneath. The Hunter retreats back to a wall; she stands and watches impassively as it disappears into the pit, joining the evidently ever-growing field of bone.

The panther watched her, then started following as she turned to leave. Another Prescott project laid waste to. The Hunter and the Panther made their way across the rest of the field, very careful to avoid prolonged contact with the pit. Very careful.

\--

She looked down, checking the map once again to ensure what her eyes told her and her heart doubted was true. She was nearly out. The bridge ahead would lead to the final stretch of tunnels that would take her to the surface.

She rushed across, the swell of emotions driving her to pick up the pace.

A short, sharp cough behind her pushed her to a sudden stop. She knew exactly who she'd see behind her.

The Hound's face had a new scar, a residual gift of The Hunter from their last encounter. She smirked when she saw it, and The Hound bristled, made to attack. His Mistress held him back with an outstretched hand and a frown. "Not yet, Palmer. We have to give her one more chance. One more chance to return home." She smiled, an attempt at comfort the Hunter knew was insincere.

The blank look and move to draw her sword was all the answer The Hunter would give. The Mistress smiled, this time seeming entirely sincere in her pleasure. "We'll enjoy this."

They both raised their swords and moved forward, working in tandem as always.

The Hunter screamed in challenge and she welcomed it, giving herself wholly over to instinct and the drive to survive. She drew her sword and held position. They would come to her.

The Hound attacked the minute he was in range, a backhanded slash to her right flank. The Hunter blocked it with ease, her blade slapping against The Hound's marking the start of battle.

The Mistress shifted the angle of her sword, leading her own attack on the Hunter's left. The Hunter simply batted it aside and kicked out, forcing the Mistress to hop out of range for a moment.

The Hound immediately took over, releasing a barrage of strikes to scatter the Hunter's guard. She had to move quickly and deftly, but her perfectly balanced defences never dropped. The Hound wasn't likely to be worried by that though, the strikes were intended to buy time until the Mistress could reenter the fray, not to actually hit her.

The Hound pushed back from the Hunter and spun, narrowly dodging the Mistress's sudden thrust. The Hunter stepped back and batted her blade aside once again. She was unhappy to lose ground, but it was necessary.

The Mistress, disappointed her thrust had failed, spun in low, slashing at The Hunter's legs.

If there were any observer watching the fight, they would've been impressed with the Hound and his Mistress. They were strong, they were quick, they were skilled. But they would've been far more impressed with The Hunter. Where the Hound was strong, The Hunter was strong and tough. Where the Mistress was quick, The Hunter was quick and graceful. Where they both were skilled, The Hunter was dazzling.

But she was one against two and even the strongest fighter couldn't hold out forever.

The Hunter pirouetted out, her leg taken out of reach of the slash before kicking into the Mistress' side. The Mistress was barely phased by the attack, and merely resumed her own strikes, coming in at different angles to the Hound's. Before she realised it, The Hunter was countering their attacks, her blade turning in circles like the edge of a screw. It flowed from block to block, adjusting to strike when she could. None of them ever made it through, all being turned aside by the two opponents.

The Hound and his Mistress sped up their own strikes in an attempt to match, but neither could change the current equilibrium of the battle. The Hunter's strikes became clumsy, and the few times the Mistress managed to strike, her blows were so weak they barely grazed the Hunter's patchwork armour.

However, she did have one ace up her sleeve. She ripped the lining of her jacket with her free hand and pulled a small, steel dagger from it. The bluish tubes wrapped over the crossguard, and the poison groove cut into the blade, let the Hunter immediately guess its identity. It was another of Ratigan's toys, a modified blade designed to fill any wounds it caused with a paralytic agent. Her muscles would freeze in an instance, and she'd be unable to resist.

They were still aiming to take her alive.

She resumed her strikes, this time with two blades. Faced with three weapons to her one, the Hunter's defences began to falter. Even she wasn't quick enough to have her sword block three attacks at once. So instead, she concentrated on the dagger. If that struck her, it was all over.

More and more strikes began to pierce her defences. She still blocked more than she took, but the numbers were closing quickly. She'd need to do something to change the battle, or she would lose.

The Mistress and her Hound both struck high, cutting down towards the Hunter's neck and shoulders. She twisted her blade in answer, managing to hold all three blades above her.

In answering frustration, the Mistress twisted the dagger, attempting to break through the Hunter's guard. She grinned wolfishly, pleasure evident on her face that this chase might finally be over.

The Hunter's blade flickered, releasing the other two blades and, catching the strike on the crossguard, held it barely an inch from her side. She kicked out at the Hound once again, pushing him back. The Mistress growled, angry at this sudden turn, and tried to push her dagger down harder.

The Hunter's expression never changed and the dagger never moved.

The Mistress pulled back from the stand-off as The Hound pressed in from the other side. The Hunter switched her attention as easily as she had blocked the dagger.

The Hound found himself on the receiving end of a renewed barrage of attacks as the Hunter struck him with everything she had. Surprisingly, the Hound managed to block all her strikes. The Mistress quickly rejoined him, and they pressed the Hunter back.

While The Hunter could not angle the tip of her blade for a killing thrust, she could, and did, punch out with the hilt, connecting solidly with the Hound's face, sending him staggering backward. She spun her blade and slapped the Mistress' wrist, forcing her to drop her blade, then planted her foot in the woman's stomach and pushed her back. The Mistress landed on her Hound, sending them back to the other side of the bridge in a tangle of limbs.

Seeing her chance, and that the panther was waiting behind her at their exit, she turned and ran. At the exit, she slowed, the haze of battle falling far enough for her to think.

If she ran, they would follow her, even to the surface. She couldn't kill them, not yet. Even now she knew they were standing, finding their weapons, and rushing back toward her. So, she'd have to make sure they couldn't follow her.

A quick assessment revealed a weakness. Her training hadn't included much architectural technique or design, but while she had no idea how to create a structure, she knew exactly how to bring one down. She slammed the hilt of her sword into the rock of the archway, smiling as it started to crumble. The Hound and his Mistress were aware of her aim, both only halfway across the bridge, but they weren't close enough to stop her.

She slammed the sword into the cracks again and again and again, her grin growing along with the fracture. When the arch showed signs of giving way, she dived forward, only narrowly avoiding being crushed by falling rock.

\--

The Hunter walked for many days after the fight, quietly pondering the next steps, and possible end, of her long journey. The panther was her only reassurance, her constant and unjudging companion throughout. Whether through coincidence, or the kindness of fate, the days and miles passed without note. The denizens of the vast network of caverns seemed to see fit to leave her be.

The incline of the path ahead started to angle upwards steadily. The Hunter kept on, eyes flickering around as she realised she was close to the end of her journey. The barest mote of hope sprouted,

She stopped. The air around them had lightened, almost imperceptibly. Old memories ran through her, the air on her face, wind blowing past her...

She was almost out!

They ran forward, Panther and Hunter, anxiously expecting a way out to be around every bend. Eventually, they reached a small cave, wholely unremarkable except for one thing; The small arched opening, where the darkness ahead was lighter than the darkness behind.

The Hunter stopped, took a breath. She hadn't seen the surface in... she didn't know how long it had been. Weeks? Months? Years?

She didn't know if she could do it. The caves were dangerous, but they were predictable, familiar.

She looked down at the Panther, who looked up at her, eyes wide and unblinking. She smiled. Together, then.

They walked out of the cave, emerging onto a high plateau. They were high-up, perched on the side of a mountain, looking out over a series of islands.

The cold wind howled through the hills around her, causing a shiver she barely noticed as she drank in her surroundings. Stars twinkled in the sky above, their light shining through the clouds. The bright-silver light of the moon gave the rolling fields and forests of the island an ethereal quality that captivated her.

She was free.


	11. Stargazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> Long time no seen. So, it seems the universe is yet again conspiring to make anything I promise impossible. I've been dealing with so much fucking drama lately that if I told you the full story, you'd think I was ripping off the disorganised, wildly convoluted insanity that is Pretty Little Liars. Or was, since I believe it's been finally taken out back and mercy-shot in the head like it deserves?
> 
> Anyway, during the drama I had no time at all to write and wasn't actually near a computer to do so anyway. Since the drama was resolved a few days back, I've spent the last two or three days writing pretty much non-stop. So, yes. Here you go. New update.
> 
> I'm not an advocate of Astrology myself, but I'm a massive Astronomy fan. I love SPAAAAACE. Main reason I'd love to be immortal, just to be around when we get to go out there as a species and check it out.
> 
> Oh, and Kudos if you know where the strange creatures used for Ammo in this one are from.
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

"Wow, Max. I had no idea anyone could be so wrong about something." She laughs and play-punches my shoulder. "But you proved me wrong on this one, Maxie. Congratulations, really."

I smile, trailing her out of the diner. She's still talking. Rachel talks a lot, I notice. She's like Chloe that way. They're both really...

"Maxie?"

I immediately stop as Rachel's face appears in front of mine. "Hey? Earth to Maxie?" She flashes me another bright grin. "I am making some amazing arguments here, Max, and nobody is listening and that is absolutely tragic." She tilts her head. "You ok?"

I shrug. "Sorry, Rachel. Just..."

"Distracted by my ethereal beauty?"

I flush. Rachel laughs. "Don't worry Maxie, I wouldn't blame you if that did happen. I am very distracting, you know."

I laugh at that, and Rachel's laugh turns into a grin. "You know, you do the cutest little snort when you laugh. It's really adorable." She reaches out and boops my nose.

I flush.

Again.

I really need to work on that.

"Come on, I've got something I want to show you." She turns and starts walking back to her bike.

I blink. Uh, what?

When I don't move, she calls back over her shoulder. "Come on, Maxie! You know you waaant to!" She singsongs teasingly.

I quickly hurry over, pulling on the helmet and climbing on behind her. She reaches down and puts my arms around her midriff. Then, she kicks the bike into motion, and we speed off towards whatever she wants to show me.

*flashback begins*

She didn't know how long she'd sat there, staring up at the stars, but the moon had disappeared and the dawn's light was cresting over the peaks of the mountain range.

She soon realised that she'd have to move. The underground had been chaotic and free, but the Prescott's controlled the surface. If she stayed here too long, a patrol would come across her. Either that or the Hound and his Mistress would find her when they made their way out.

The Hunter scanned her surroundings, looking for a way down off the plateau. She found it, after twenty minutes of searching, in the form of a small ravine. The steep sides had many hand and footholds for her to climb down. The Panther leapt down, landing comfortably. She followed her down at a slower pace, climbing down until she reached the mountainside proper.

The ground around her was jagged and cracked, but still relatively stable. However, the hundreds of loose rocks and dozens of larger boulders that were scattered across the steep landscape meant the Hunter had to work hard to avoid causing an avalanche. She was far less quick and agile than the Panther was, so was stuck taking a slower and more careful pace. Eventually, the jagged and cluttered land gave way to a thin trail.

The trail lead her to a wide pass through the hills, down into one of the large forested valleys that this island seemed to be filled with. The air had been getting colder, something that the Hunter found immensely pleasant. She'd been so long in the unchanging clime of the underground that she'd almost forgotten about seasons, the feeling of the sun on her face.

A faint mist lay over the meandering river running through the valley. Although the valley would make an excellent sanctuary, the Hunter knew it was too close to the exit she had used. When the Hound and his Mistress made their way out, they'd search this area. She'd need to be far away before that happened.

Scanning her surroundings once again, she quickly found a small ford and crossed the river, heading directly for the other side of the valley. To most individuals, crossing the wet and unevenly set stones would be difficult, but the Hunter's agility allowed her to manage it easily. She leapt nimbly onto the other bank, springing over or around the rocks and crags there without thought.

She'd clambered up the valley wall and put a mile behind her before she realised she was being pursued. She never saw anyone, but the Hunter's instincts told her a truth beyond doubt. She darted through a thick copse of trees and skittered up the side of an incline to hide behind a large boulder, then she waited.

Nine shapes appeared out of the forest, carefully following her trail. Seven were humanoid, two had the largish form and rippling blue fur of tak-hounds. The seven humanoid figures appeared to be more offshoots, all of them grey-skinned. One was taller and bulkier than the others, their skin covered in some sort of dark armour.

She drew her sword and called the Panther over to her side. "There." The Panther peered over at their pursuers, who were starting to get uncomfortably close. As they neared the bottom of the incline, the Hunter spoke to the Panther once again. "Help me." She began to push at the boulder, shoving as hard as she could. The Panther pushed alongside her. With a final heave, they forced the boulder down the incline, sending it rolling onto the pursuers. They followed it down with a leap, weapons at the ready. Two offshoots were crushed instantly and two more found their throats cut open, one by the Hunter's sword and the other by the Panther's claws.

The three remaining all drew their own weapons. The armoured one had a large two-handed great-sword, the other two held spears out in front of them. Before the Hunter could move again, one of them launched its spear. It came at her in a blur, but the bad aim of the offshoot and the bad crafting of the weapon meant it merely grazed her flank. She caught it before it clattered to the ground, spinning and hurling it at one of the hounds. The spear caught it mid-leap, jamming into it's side.

The two smaller offshoots charged towards her, one brandishing its spear and the other now wielding a small knife. The Hunter raised her sword to meet them, but a shriek from the tak-hounds forced her to stumble backwards clutching her ears in agony. Their cries were horrific, akin to the ancient legend of the Banshee.

They shrieked again and the Hunter turned to flee. She ran back up the incline, trying to outrun the five foes she faced. There was no sense in risking facing the debilitating shrieks of the tak-hounds when she could simply outrun or outmanoeuvre her enemies to a better position. The path she took then ran fairly level, with the forest to one side and a steep rocky cliff-face to the other.

This was a grave error, as the Hunter ran straight into another waiting band of similar numbers, this one accompanied by a huge purple-splotched mole-like creature with large claws that swiped at her the minute she ran into view.

She quickly dodged back, ducking as the Panther flew over her head and landed on the mole-thing, clawing at its head. The seven offshoots all drew their weapons and charged, bloodthirsty and feral. The Hunter dipped low under the first one's slash, smoothly sliding her blade into its throat. As one came in from the left, she quickly spun the corpse to block, using the dead offshoot like a shield. Jabbing the corpse forward, she pushed the offending offshoot back before hurling it at one to her right, knocking both offshoot and corpse off the cliff.

Five remaining. The Panther had the mole-thing well in hand, jumping from its head to various rock faces and back again. Every time she swiped at it, gouging yet more long cuts down its head. The creature was getting angrier.

An owl swooped down over the fray, hooting loudly. A moment later, three small balls of fur flew through the air, each landing on an offshoot. The Hunter had no idea what they were, but she got a good idea when the little furballs started biting and the offshoots started screaming. Each one dropped to the ground, writhing in pain. The two still standing came on again.

The Hunter parried a clumsy strike from one of them, then jabbed at the second, cutting a wicked gash into its arm. With a lucky thrash, the giant mole-thing threw the Panther from its back, then charged to the aid of the offshoots. As it did, the Hunter heard the pain-inducing screams of the tak-hounds behind her and swore lightly.

Above her, the owl hooted again. Instead of three furry balls, two black-fletched arrows flew in, thudding into the mole-creature's back and sending it to the ground where Holly jumped on it once again.

The Hunter engaged in a frenzied parrying back-and-forth with the remaining offshoots. None of the three gained any ground, but neither did they lose it. She tested defences, quickly switching tactics and targets as her instincts directed. It seemed she wouldn't be able to flee before the two tak-hounds arrived.

Another hoot sounded and two more arrows thudded into the mole-thing, which cried out once and for the last time. One of the two offshoots turned at the mole-thing's dying sound and the Hunter buried her sword into its chest. She whirled towards the one remaining foe, pulling the corpse with her blade, once again knocking both offshoot and corpse off the cliff.

Then, she turned to face the newly arrived foes. The dagger wielding offshoot had regained its spear and, along with its compatriot, approached her warily with their spears extended.

The owl hooted and two more furballs flew from the sky to land on the two offshoots. The Hunter immediately ignored them and darted back a little as she spotted the two hounds enter the area. One was limping as it walked, blood dripping from its side. Her teachers had little advice to give on a face-to-face melee confrontation with these creatures, preferring to pick them off when out of range of their cries. She'd have to focus on the offshoot and leave the tak-hounds to her mysterious benefactor.

The armoured offshoot approached calmly and carefully, unlike its companions. This one seemed almost... intelligent. It circled the Hunter, its blade extended before it. The Hunter struck first, stabbing at the offshoot's chest. It blocked the blow easily, countering with a strike to her head that she dodged without thinking. Yet again, she fell into a back-and-forth of strikes and blocks. A tak-hound shrieked near her, but her concentration was totally on the battle and she barely heard it as more than a faraway numbness.

The offshoot was grinning, baring its teeth in a horrific rictus as it parried and countered and chopped. The Hunter never let up the pressure, trying to keep it on the back foot, but this offshoot could hold its own against her. That thought alone terrified her into concentration.

The offshoot scored a glancing hit on her arm, then reversed its blade to score another on her thigh. In turn, she managed to scrape across the inner elbow joint of the offshoot's armour. She cut through the leather strapping there, leaving the vambrace hanging by a few scraps. The offshoot growled and swung its sword, but the Hunter dodged out of its path. She took another swing, but her blade merely clanged against the hard black armour.

The offshoot looked down at where her blade had struck and grinned. It had the upper hand here, and now it knew it. It stepped back quickly and brought its sword up for a downward strike. When it brought the blade down, the Hunter reflexively snapped her blade up to block. Her blade collided with the black great-sword, bent nearly in half, and snapped at the hilt. She immediately dashed back, betrayed for the first time by her trusted weapon.

With a laugh, the offshoot came after her, swinging wildly now. All pretence at tactics or skill had gone, the creature now just wanted blood. She dodged every strike, blurring movements that came almost before the swing they were to dodge even started. The offshoot grew more and more frustrated with each miss, putting more force behind each blow. She could feel air blowing past her with each swing.

A misstep and a lucky strike knocked her to the ground. Her battle focus disappeared instantly, her mind turning from fight to flight. Before she could move, a meaty foot was planted on her chest, and the offshoot raised its sword for a killing strike.

The owl hooted, but no bolt flew. Instead, a small crackling ball fired over her and hit the offshoot in its exposed face. Small flickers of electricity danced out from the strike across the offshoot's body, making its limbs flail about like a rogue marionette as it screamed in pain. She skittered back on her hands, narrowly avoiding being crushed when the armoured offshoot fell to the ground.

She looked around. The two tak-hounds were covered in a strange webbed substance and the offshoots that had been attacked by furballs had fallen silent.

The battle was over.

The owl circled above her once again, hooting loudly. She quickly moved to a crouch, scanning the brush around her for the mysterious archer and bracing herself for another shot. She could catch or dodge an arrow if need be, but she'd need to see it. Whatever the strange ammo the archer had used would be significantly harder to counter. After a few heartbeats, she realised no arrow would be coming. Instead came the archer.

She could barely see anything through the thick mist, but she could make out the faint outline of a humanoid figure making their way down towards her. Whoever it was moved quickly and confidently, picking their way down the hillside with the ease of long practice. As they closed on her, she caught her first clear look at her saviour.

She was tall and wiry, with a long mane of greyish hair sprouting wildly from her head. A large crossbow was mounted on her right forearm, occupying her entire arm from wrist to elbow, and the head of two bolts on it pointed towards the Hunter. Although, this was not the woman's most notable feature. Her most notable feature was in fact her eyes. Their milky whiteness would've made the Hunter believe the woman was blind, had she not seen the earlier archery display. They also had, in place of the usual circles, cats-eye slit irises, a mirror of her own.

The telltale sign of a Child of Ratigan.

The Hunter watches her walk up warily. She had escaped, but many of Ratigan's creations were still loyal to their corporate masters. This one wasn't marked, but she still might be on retainer.

The woman said something in a language the Hunter did not understand, then another, then another, and another, before arriving at English. "Who are you?"

The Hunter cocked her head. The woman repeated the question.

"I'm... Max."

She nodded. "And what are you?"

"W-what?"

The archer doesn't take her eyes off the Hunter. "What. Are. You?"

"What do you-"

The woman snorted, her derision evident. "You know exactly what I mean. Tell me your number."

There was... something in the woman's tone that gave her hope. She pushed the Hunter back, then gave it. "M23-6b."

The woman's eyes bulged in surprise. "You're an M-series? I thought you'd all been purged months ago."

She... I shrug. "They tried. I... I survived."

The woman stared at me, and it was like she was staring into my head. I could feel the Hunter retract into the back of my head, trying to hide from her gaze. "No matter. You are my prisoner now."

I was careful not to look, but I spotted Holly crawling forward behind the woman. She slunk over, closing the distance until she was within range for an easy spring. Her ears flattened and her teeth were bared as she let out a low, throaty growl.

The Hunter grinned.

The woman's expression never changed. "Friend of yours?" She asked, calmly.

The Hunter nodded.

"Big cat?"

The Hunter nodded again.

The woman lowered her arm and the limbs of her crossbow flicked inward and the scope retracted into the main body. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head tilted back, and she seemed to fall within herself for a moment. After a second, she rolled her shoulders back and breathed out hard.

Behind her, the Panther suddenly... relaxed. Her mouth closed and her ears came up. She walked out past the old woman, sending the owl flapping frenziedly away, moving to stand over by the Hunter. Apparently she'd relinquished all concerns that the old woman was an enemy.

The Hunter watched her in confusion for a second, calm to all outer appearances but seething inside. The old woman looked back at her and the Hunter retreated once more. "Good cat."

I stood, relaxing my grip on my sword. "Good cat." The old woman repeated. "I am Artemis," She said, proudly. "Well met, Max."

I watched her warily. "Well m-met. W-will you let me go? Or am I your prisoner again?"

The woman shrugged. "Maybe. You've helped me deal with a significant problem today, so I kind of owe you one. I want to offer you a safe refuge, with me."

I focused on her face. I wasn't the best at reading people, but she seemed honest. However, I'd learnt to be wary. Few that seemed friendly actually were. "Where... where are your loyalties?"

She smirks. "Not with the Men in The Mountain, I assure you. Or the... Doctor of our mutual acquaintance."

I... I nod. "Okay. Lead on."

She smiles, then turns to head back up the hill. After a second or two, the Panther and I follow.

*flashback ends*

"We're here."

I raise an eyebrow. "Here? It's a parking lot."

She doesn't answer, just smiles and hops off the bike, sauntering off up a trail by the side of the lot. I follow along, grumbling.

The trail leads through forest for a short while, then angles upward, following the curve of a hill. Rachel leads me up to the top, then spins around with a grin. "So, back in the diner, you were talking about how you like the night sky, right?" I nod, and she spreads her hands. "Well, here we are."

"...Where are we?"

Rachel's grin drops, as she throws out her arm, proud magician revealing her rabbit. "Maxine Caulfield, welcome... to Whatsthe Point."

I sigh, as I suppress a smile. Badly. "Whatsthe Point?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "I think it's an Indian name."

That, I laugh at. I'm not sure if that says more about her or me, but still. Her mouth spreads into another pleased grin. Swinging about, she wanders over to a small grassy incline, then carefully lounges back onto it. "Come over here, lay down next to me."

After a few seconds of hesitation, I walk over and lie down. I leave a few centimetres between us. Rachel frowns a little at the distance, but starts talking anyway. "So, do you know anything about the stars?"

I did, but... I shake my head. "Not much."

Her face lights up again. "What's that thing that Chloe's always saying? Awesomesauce..." She draws the word out, dramatic and full of promise, like she's the narrator for one of those old radio shows William used to listen to in the car with us. I can almost hear the echo of sauce... sauce... sauce... drifting past us and up to the sky. Her voice takes on that note I can't identify again. "The Fates are up there, Max..."

I, um. What? She keeps talking, oblivious to my confusion. "It probably seems super hokey to you, Max, but I really believe that." She waves a hand up at the sky again, "What happens up there plays out again down here, Max. You and I. From the stars we came, and to the stars we return."

I tilt my head. "That sounds like a quote."

She shrugs. "Something my Mom used to say. She taught me about all this stuff." Rachel sighs, then shakes her head. She shuffles up next to me, uncomfortably close, until I can feel her warmth on my side and points up at the sky. "You see that bright one? That's the North Star. If you kinda follow it down and to the left, you've got the ladle of the Big Dipper. That upside-down trapezoid thing?"

She waits for a second until I nod in acknowledgement. "Ok, so if you draw a line from the handle through Megrez and Merak," She frowns for a second, moving her finger around as she searches. "that leads down to Gemini, and if you wanna find my sign, Cancer, you just go to the left and it's sort of..." She grins in triumph. "Right there. That upside down Y, do you see it?" [A1]

I shake my head. "I... I don't see it." I'm strangely disappointed. The sky is darker here, the stars are... harder to see. She shuffles closer, uses one of her arms like a scope. The other hand gently moves my head until I'm looking in the right place.

That's when I realise she's put her arm over my shoulders. I clench both hands as I swallow a snarl. No! Please, no! Not now. Not. Now! The Hunter is rattling the bars of her cage, but she's still securely contained. I sigh. Good. "So, what's your sign?" I blink as I realised Rachel hadn't stopped talking.

"Uh, what?"

Rachel smirks. "Come on Maxie, no need to be shy. What's your sign?"

I sigh. The Hunter's screams had faded now, so... "Virgo, I think. My birthday is in September."

"Yep, definitely a Virgo. Okay, so..." She stares back up at the sky. "If you follow the handle of the Big Dipper down..." Her hand points, then draws a line downwards through the sky. "You see that bright, orange one? That's called Arcturus. If you keep that line going... you get to Spica. That's the big white-blue one. It's the bottom of your sign." She smirks. "Kinda literally. It's where her butt is."

This one I spot immediately. I'd... learned to see it... from someone else. I find a smile creeping onto my face. "So, my fate is a butt, huh?"

"Yep. Looks like it is." She grins. "Or just to be one."

I stick out my tongue. "Har har." She laughs again, flopping down onto the grass.

As we both stare back up at the sky, I lean back on the grass next to her. "This is nice."

Rachel grins happily at me. "Yeah?" I know I'm not the best with people but... Rachel sounds nervous.

I grin back. The Hunter is quieted, the stars are bright, and Rachel is smiling. "Yeah."

\--

I rolled out of bed and onto my feet in a second.

Morning.

Urgh.

I dress quickly and head out. I make it three steps down the empty corridor, until I hear a door open behind me. "Oh, of fucking course you're up, Island Jane. Did they have fucking cockerels on that Island to wake you up early or something?"

I turn. "Good morning, Your Majesty."

Victoria smirks. "You remembered. I'm impressed." Her smirk drops. "Now answer the fucking question. What are you doing up this early?"

I shrug. "Just woke up. Couldn't get back to sleep."

"Bullshit. You're a bad fucking liar, Jane." She scowls at me, leaning back and crossing her arms.

That's when I notice how she's dressed. Sweatpants and a running top. She's also not wearing make-up. I tilt my head. "Going running?"

She snorts. "No, I'm dressed like this for classes." When I don't react, I'm fixed with a scathing look and an eyeroll. "Jesus, of course I'm going running." She tries to muscle her way past me, blinking down at me in mute shock when she's stopped in her tracks.

After a few seconds, I step out of her way. She stares at me for a full minute before storming off to the exit with a huff.

I watch her go. When the door swung closed, I smiled.

Heh. That was fun.

I promptly dismissed the event from my mind as I left too. I had places to be.

I stopped.

I checked my watch.

Shit. It is early. I needed to kill some time, so I headed out to the mine. I could make it back in time.

\--

"So, rumour has it you've had another run-in with the Queen Bitch herself."

I looked up from my breakfast into Rachel's smirking face. "What?"

She swung her leg over the bench opposite mine and sat down across the table from me. "The Queen Bitch? She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Bitchtoria?" I started to giggle as Rachel rattled off nickname after nickname. "The Blondest Wonder? Icky Vicky? Ringing any bells?"

My giggle ends in a snort as I reply. "Oh. That. She, um..." I look back down to my breakfast. The food here in the cafeteria wasn't very good. "She was just being cranky. I think." My mouth twists in mild frustration. "People are still confusing."

Rachel snorts. "People aren't that complicated, Max. We're all just slight variations on a theme." She reaches over and pats my shoulder. "You'll work it out."

I shake my head and sigh, pushing the lonely sausage around the plate with my fork. "I don't know, Rachel." I give her a wry smile. "I'm not good at talking to them."

Rachel shrugs. "You're pretty good at talking to me." When I don't nod, she leans forward. "Riiiight?"

I frown. "I guess? But you're..."

She reaches up and puts a finger on my lips. "But nothing. You're gonna kick ass someday, Max Caulfield." She checked her watch. "But today you're gonna get your ass to class."

My shoulders sag. "Okay. I have English now, I think."

"English?" Rachel grins. "You're totally gonna love this."

Oh, dog...

\--

AN1 - Unfortunately, I'm taking some 'artistic liberties' with the whole stargazing thing. It's pretty damn near to impossible to spot Cancer nowadays, unless you're on a hill on a clear night in the middle of nowhere.


	12. My Intentions are Honourable... Mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> I'm now officially moving update day to Wednesday. I know I update on Wednesdays most weeks anyway, but from now on that's going to be on purpose. :) Also, yes. I know the second flashback sounds hella expository. I just needed you to know some shit and I really didn't have the energy to think up anything better than that. The organisation I volunteer with is working us pretty hard on a new project and it's been all hands on deck for a while now. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

Ugh. I hate long shifts. I always ended up shuffling about a shitload on the drive back trying to keep myself awake. Seriously, thank fuck my boss lets us have free coffee or I'd doze off on the job and get my ass fired.

I grab the travel mug of espresso from my cup holder and take a long drink from it. My eyes close as the caffeine takes effect and...

"Oh shit!" I fumble the cap of the mug closed and drop it in the passenger seat as I swerve the truck back into my lane just as a huge fucking semi roars past me. The driver yells something I don't catch but guess is probably a shitload of pissed off swearing.

Okay, fuck that was close. Eyes on the road, Price. Eyes on the fucking road. I'm too hungry to die right now.

I keep telling my boss we need to start doing actual fucking food. I love muffins as much as anyone else, but fuck, I'm a growing teen and I need a hella lot of them to keep me going for my whole shift. Some, like, sandwiches and shit would be awesomesauce.

Fuck. Why did I think about food? I really need some noms right now. I immediately swerve, turning onto the road to the Two Whales. I park up outside, swing out of my truck, and head in.

The Diner was still open. It never really closed. Truckers didn't really have, like, schedules, so the diner would get customers all the time. There was three in there when I got in. One at each end of the counter and one in a booth. They all had food and were eating hella quietly. I always hated being in here this early. Too fucking quiet.

I swaggered over and flopped onto one of the stools around the counter. "Hey Mom-zor."

Joyce looked up at me from the book she was leant on the counter reading. "Hello, Chloe. Max and Rachel were in here a minute ago. You just missed them."

I blink. "They were?"

"They sure were. Came in, shared a plate of pancakes." She nods over to our usual booth. "They spent the entire time chatting to each other in the booth, mostly about stars, of all things. I barely got a word in edgeways."

I grin. Sounds like my two best friends are getting on like a house on fire. That's good, right? "They looked very comfortable together. After all these years, and everything she's been through, it's great to see Max livin' her life again and getting to know people. And Rachel, she looked so... happy." She twists her mouth in a weird way then, like, leans over the counter towards me. "They were very... I mean, are they..?"

Seriously, Rach? We fucking talked about... Wait. I stare, slackjawed, at Joyce. "Uh, Mom? Are you trying to... gossip?"

She blinks in shock, looking down at herself for a few seconds. Fucking right. Moms shouldn't gossip. That's just hella weird. "I... Oh lord, Chlo'. Let's forget that ever happened." Her mouth curls again as she makes weird "Ah, um... er..." noises, then she takes a deep breath and says "How was work, Chloe?"

I shrug, trying to forget the fact that Mom just tried to gossip about Max and Rach. And the fact that there is gossip about Max and Rach. God-fucking-damnit Rach! I shake my head. Later, Price. You can find her and kick her ass later. Now, noms. "Still hella crazy. Emily, the girl on my shift, cut her fucking finger off."

Joyce's mouth drops open. "She did what? Is she okay?"

I wave her off. "Yeah, she's fine. It was only the top. Got it all sewed up and shit."

Joyce blinks for a sec, then shakes her head. "I will never get how that coffeeshop stays in business." She takes a deep breath. "So, what can I get you, Chlo? The usual?"

I nod. "Hell yeah. But gimme a double and put it on the rocks."

Mom rolls her eyes. "Eight waffles and some ice cream, coming up." Then the Mom-Light in her head switches on. "Now, sit down, before you fall down. Christ, Chloe."

I snort and mutter, hella sarcastically, "Okay, Mom." But I head over to a booth anyway.

I slid in, running my hand over the little carved heart again.

Max & Chloe 4-eva 2008

Joyce was so pissed when we carved this. I say we. More like me carving and Max sat opposite me blushing like a fucking tomato and frantically muttering at me to stop. Heh. She was so cute when she got all scandalised.

That's not gonna happen anymore, I guess, now she's all... whatever the fuck she is. She's hella cool, but she's hella different. Definitely more of a badass than she used to be, but... I remember her face after that fucking nightmare and after her... whatever the fuck that was when we were Princess Bride-ing around the junkyard.

Fuuuuuck.

"Chloe?" Mom smirks down at me, as she slides the plate onto the table. "You know that carving's gonna disappear if you keep rubbing at it like that."

I look down, finally noticing I've been running my fingers over the heart hella hard since I sat down. "I, uh... yeah. Sorry."

"Somethin' bothering you, Chlo'?" Mom tilts her head and looks at me. She always was hella concerned about me. Being concerned for me is a... nice fucking change.

I shrug. "I..." I don't even know where to fucking start.

Mom laughs. "It's been a hell of a week, ain't it? Max comin' back, you two gettin' close again, her gettin' on so well with Rachel..." I tense at that last bit, only just realising her face was lit up with a triumphant grin. That sneaky bitch! "Chloe Elizabeth Price, are you... jealous of Rachel? Or is it Max?"

I immediately flick my head up to stare open-mouthed at her. "What the fuck are you talking about, Mom?"

"I don't know Chlo', but you've been rubbin' that old carving the entire time we've been talking." I immediately yank my hand away from the table and glare at the traitorous thing, then promptly sit on it. Mom shakes her head with a laugh. "You have got to work out your intentions toward that girl, Chloe. Whichever one that's got you in this state. Someone's gonna get hurt if you don't."

I roll my eyes and smirk dismissively. "My intentions are purely honourable, Mom."

...mostly.

The look Mom gives me almost screams the fact that she doesn't believe me. I don't really give a fuck, just as long as she stops fucking talking about it. After a few seconds of quiet, she nods at the carving. "You remember how angry I was when you did that?"

I give a small grin back. "Heh. Yeah, it was hella funny. I thought you were gonna pop a vein or something."

She snorts. "Lord knows you've gotten me close to that more than a few times over the years." She sighs, looking out the window with a weird look on her face. I think it's wistful? "I never could talk to you like he could."

I, uh... um... I have no idea what to say. But I gotta say something, right? Right? "I..."

"You don't have to say anything, Chlo'. Just been a long day." She stands up with another deep breath. "Enjoy your waffles, and get home safe. I don't wanna hear anything about you tearing up the Bay, okay?"

I give her a mock-salute. "Yes mom."

She laughs lightly and heads back over to the counter. I lean back in the booth when she leaves and breathe out hella deeply. Then, I dig in. Omnomnom.

\--

"And that's all for today, class. Read pages 118-164 and do the factorial exercises on page 7 for next week." The class files out as the teacher finishes talking. I'm at the trail end of them, staying out of the crowd. Force of habit. Plus, I had a free afternoon and plans to use it.

I manage to make it three steps into the corridor without attracted attention until Rachel slips in front of me, a smooth and fluid motion. I immediately stop, but she's still uncomfortably close.

She smiles softly at me. "Hi Max. How was class?"

I frown. She'd made it sound like English would be hell on Earth, but it was fine. It was my most quiet class all day. My math class had been hell though. Nobody would be quiet for the entire lesson. The teacher eventually just gave up and forgot about teaching for that lesson. "Fine. What were you talking about?"

+

Her smile disappears as she stares at me in confusion. "You didn't notice? I mean, it's... really, really blatant."

I shrug and shake my head. "Everything seemed normal to me, Rach, what did I miss?"

Her smile flicks back on, bright as ever. "Oh, no no no. If you didn't notice, I'm not gonna tell you. You'll have to work it out yourself." She clicks her fingers. "Think of it like practice. To get better at people."

I briefly consider pushing her for an answer. I stop considering after a few seconds. It's not likely to get me anywhere. "Okay. I guess. I'll let you know if I work anything out."

"That's the spirit, Maxie." She spins around and throws her arm over my shoulder again. "So, when are we getting together to work on that competition picture?"

I blink. "The what?"

Rachel rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "The competition for Mr J that we're totally going to win?"

Oh, right. That competition. "I remember now. We can get together..." I think forward. "Um. Before the party? Or sometime next week?"

She thinks for a second, then grins again. "I've gotta dash, but sometime before the party should be great. Looking forward to it already, Maxie." She leans in and kisses my cheek, then splits off from me, heading for the stairs.

I stare after her for a second, then head for the exit. As soon as I'm sure I'm out of sight, I start running for the mines.

*Flashback Begins*

As they walked, Max began to inquire more about the new world she had found herself in. She had been away from it for many years, and wanted to catch up as fast as possible. "Do the... offshoots attack here often?"

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "The offshoots? Is that what they call them up in the Mountain?"

Max nodded and Artemis let out a short chuckle. "The Doctor never was a creative one. No, they don't attack me often anymore. They did, but I've bloodied their noses often enough that they leave me alone, for the most part. There are still a few who think me weak because of my condition." She waves vaguely at her eyes and Max immediately realised her earlier supposition had been true. The old woman was indeed blind! She chuckles again. "They learn the folly of that belief very quickly."

The 'Refuge' Artemis offered turned out to be a large network of treehouses built into the upper boughs of a tree taller than any Max had seen before. The construction meshed perfectly with the tree's natural shape. The base of each platform interlaced itself with the branches around it, giving her the impression that the house had grown from the tree, rather than been built there. Each platform was connected by rope-and-wood bridges crossing at various heights. There were several heavy crossbows securely mounted at fairly regular intervals across each bridge. The house was a marvel of

It suited her new companion wonderfully.

As they walked up, animals appeared from their hiding spots to greet the old woman. Birds fluttered past, chirping loudly, squirrels and other smaller creatures dashed out of the undergrowth to dance around their feet. Max stared as Artemis stopped and smiled at each one, breathing out heavily every so often. Every time she did, the animals nearby would make excited-sounding noises and hop around hyper-kinetically. Max knew the the breath and the excitement were likely linked, but she wasn't sure how. She resolved to ask later.

Artemis lead her through a small furrow into the roots of the tree, showing her a set of spiral stairs carved into the interior. Huge and intricate patterns spiralled over the tree's bark and every inch of the surface was covered by the designs. "Welcome to my home."

Max spoke again, staring up at the house in wonder. "It's... It's amazing."

Artemis smiled, looking up from where she was tending to one of the animals that had appeared. "Thank you. I've worked hard to keep it this way. Now, come upstairs and I'll show you around. I want you to be comfortable here, for whatever time you do stay."

Max followed, without hesitation.

*Flashback Ends*

\--

The Hunter presses at the limits of its cage as I walk into the dark mine. The cold darkness around it was... familiar, even though I'd been above ground for years now. I quickly got it under control. The darkness never bothered me, anyway. My eyes adjusted in seconds and I could see as well as I always could.

I walked through the mine quickly, wandering past the headframe for the the mine's single elevator. The elevator was old and didn't actually work anymore, so I had to climb down the shaft. The metal girders made for good hand and foot holds. I navigated the 250ft from top to bottom in a few minutes, dropping down into my sanctuary.

I put a hand on the metal of the elevator and followed the wall alongside it to a small shack, entering it. I quickly found the generator cord and pulled it, bringing the thing roaring into life. A second or two later, several large lights flicked on, illuminating the small cavern.

The laptop sitting on a small table in the middle of the room also flicked on. I sat down, bringing up one of the files I'd brought with me. I quietly studied the face, and memorised the name shown. Pretty Boy Floyd... Wanted for the kidnapping and murder of two children and fleeing prosecution. 100,000$ offered for any information that may lead to his arrest. [AN1]

I headed over to the scattered series of benches and tables I'd set up against one wall. The floor wasn't level, so they weren't all together. I went for one table specifically, the one holding the large crate.

I quickly pulled it open, and reached in to grab what was inside...

Time to Hunt.

*Flashback Begins*

As the days turned to weeks, so did acquaintances turn to friends. Max had met a kindred spirit in Artemis, another subject found freedom. For both of them, this was a time of easy living and shared pleasures. But there was still... doubt. Although Max had asked questions about Artemis, her situation and her abilities; the old woman had avoided answering any personal questions.

She was, however, very willing to share her knowledge. Max learnt many things, practical lessons about the flora and fauna of the area, in those first few weeks. She learnt which fruits were safe to eat and which were not, she learnt how to tell animals by their tracks and plants by their flowers and colouring, she learnt everything Artemis was willing to teach her.

As those weeks rolled on, so too did her lessons. Artemis began to concentrate on the life around them, both animal and plants. She taught Max how to forage for food, how to find water, and how to understand the emotions of animals by their movements alone.

Max took to every lesson quickly. Her drive and determination and desperation gave her a powerful motivation. Artemis noticed this, and began to relax noticeably around her.

One morning, shortly before sunset, Max was roused from sleep by a grinning Artemis. "Come with me, Max."

Max wiped the sleep from her eyes, looking blearily up at her friend. "W-what?" Her voice was shaky from sleep, not disuse. The two had spent long hours talking over Max's lessons, sometimes even seguing into other topics; they covered everything from ethics and philosophy to exercise and sports, although the latter was a rare topic. Max and Artemis both shared a similar disinterest, which somehow became a shared interest in itself.

Artemis lead her into one of the smaller buildings of the complex. After a few seconds, when she realised what the building was, Max's mouth dropped open in shock. The entire building was filled with weaponry. "An armoury?"

"Indeed. I've been collecting from the Prescott patrols for years, and designing a few of my own... creations." She tapped the crossbow attached to her arm. "That's what I'm going to train you with today. We can get you back to the sword later on."

Max shrugged. "That works for me. So, where do we start?"

Artemis grinned. "With getting you a crossbow, of course. Come on, we'll find you an armband that fits."

After thirty minutes of searching and adjustment, Max finally had a crossbow mounted on her arm. Artemis instructed her how to open it up with a slight twist of her wrist, and close it by opening her fingers. Max gave a few experimental flicks, her face lighting up when the crossbow springs into shape. "This is amazing."

Artemis laughs at her childlike awe. "You think that's amazing? Wait till you see the rest of it. Come on. I have many more things to show you."

Max followed. Artemis lead her across into another building. The interior was dark, and the floor felt soft beneath Max's feet. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom, revealing a free-range ranch. There was a central space for feeding, with large recessed rooms on each wall. Artemis guided her past each room, pointing out the small forms moving around in each one. "There are many creatures on this Island other than you or I that have been affected by Ratigan and his experiments. Every animal in this room is a product of his work."

She points to a series of fluttering, chitinous insects that swirl around their hive. Their skin matches their hive, a mess of swirling blues and blacks that meld together to create fascinating patterns. The remarkable thing about them was the little blue lines of energy that crackled over their skin like lightning. "Those are Zappflies. They're calm creatures, despite their appearance. Pack quite a punch when you annoy them though. I recommend treating them kindly."

She moves along to the next hive. It's tall, dark, and covered in thick webs. Max catches a faint glance of some equally dark, chitinous insects, but these were without wings. "These are Bolamites. They can create a near-unbreakable web in milliseconds."

She moves across the room, showing Max each group of animals in turn. The small, tribble-like balls of fur were called Fuzzles. They were calm, until provoked, when they turned into vicious balls of teeth and anger. The darker rodents next to them were Stunkz. They were able to emit a powerful and debilitating gas cloud. The brown rodents after them were Chippunks. Max smiled when she heard their rambling chatters. The dark-shelled creatures crawling over the rock formations in the next room she was shown were apparently called ThudSlugs. They were very skittish creatures, liable to curl up into balls in times of stress. Their hard shell would protect them from any danger.

The next room was particularly interesting. Towering rock pillars dotted around the room held a series of nests. Flapping around them were small, fuzzy creatures that Artemis labelled Boombats. The quiet hissing that permeated that room and the scorch marks on the walls answered Max's unasked question about why they had that name.

The final room she was shown had two different creatures inhabiting it. They were both wasp-like, one having a far thinner, mockingbird-like body than the other, which looked like a close cousin of the Hornet. The larger creature was a Stingbee, the smaller was a Sniper Wasp.

Artemis, after showing each one, began the round again. Only this time, she did something in front of each room. She stood very still, letting her eyes flutter closed as she tilted her head back. In moments, she seemed to fall within herself. After a short time frozen in that position, she rolled her shoulders back and breathed out hard. Whichever animal pen she'd stopped in front of, the occupants would reveal themselves and a few would move forward to the front, where they were scooped up and stored in a pouch at Artemis' side. Max watched each one in wonder.

When Artemis was satisfied, she turned back to Max. "Now that is done, we have much to do, and much to discuss. Your first lesson is ahead, Max."

When she left the room, Max eagerly followed her out.

*Flashback Ends*

I sat on the rooftop, watching the apartment across the road. Two men were sat on a crappy couch watching TV. Three more were wandering around the apartment holding guns. I held up my binoculars, checking the face of each one. Okay, Floyd is on the couch.

I stood up, adjusted the tan bandanna covering my face and the stetson turned low over my eyes, then walked over to the power line running between the two buildings. A quick tug test made it seem strong enough, so I climbed up and started over. I let go of the wire and land on a window ledge. It crumbles, ever so slightly, but holds under my weight.

A quick glance through the window shows the 5 men are all in the TV room now.

It's clear, but I can't deal with 5 at once. Not with the number of guns in the room. Too high a risk of them getting a shot off and hitting me or, even worse, alerting someone.

I think for a minute or two, and I have a solution. I reach into my satchel and grab one of the critturs in there, tossing it into the apartment hallway. The Chippunk starts to chatter immediately, and I wince. Wowzers, that's louder than I remembered. I peered in through the window, seeing the five men groan angrily. Floyd waves a hand and two of them head to the door.

I skulk into the hallway through an open window and take position, hiding in shadows. I raised my arm, the limbs of my arm-mounted crossbow flicked out and my weapon was ready. I loaded it with two Bolamites and waited.

The second the door opened and the two were visible, I fired. The Bolamites hit the two men and immediately wrap them in webs. They don't even have time to yell before they're wriggling and bound on the ground.

I rush in, just in time to meet a third guy coming out of the TV room. When he sees me, his eyes bulge and he pulls up his gun. I jump, push off a wall, then take him out with a quick roundhouse kick to the head. When he falls, I catch him and toss him away from the door. I can hear the two remaining men moving about, loading their guns.

I quickly reach into my satchel and pull out another two rodents. These are darker than the Chippunk I fired as a distraction. I don't bother loading them, I just toss them into the next room.

Seconds later, a loud tssss-ing sound fills the room alongside choking coughs as the Stunkz do their thing. Floyd stumbles out first, clawing at his eyes as tears run down his face. I let him continue on, but I immediately knock-out the other flunky as he tries to follow Floyd out.

I take out another Bolamite and fire at Floyd. The web wraps around him, creating a nice package for me to pick up. Which I do, and then hang his cocoon on a doorhook while I tidy up the others. I retrieve the critturs, cut open the two cocoons by the door (making sure to knock their occupants out as well), then stack them in the tv room.

Then, I cut open Floyd's cocoon and pull him to lie alongside the others. I take ten zipties from my pocket and carefully truss up each one. If I did hurt them, it wouldn't affect the police's case, but... it was senseless. No point in it. Indulging that... side of me was a feature of the Hunter, and I did not want to be like that thing.

When that's done, I head outside. There should be... I spot a few heads popping back into cover on the opposite rooftop. I run over and clamber up the walls of the building. Everyone up there scatters to the series of lean-tos and shacks dotted around the rooftop.

I walk over to one of them and throw the door open. "You." I glare at the first person I see.

He's an older guy. His fluffy jacket and hat look worn, but well-looked after. He immediately looks up at me, panicked. "I, uh, yes, what? Oh god, please don't hurt me!"

I level a stare on him and he clams up. "I'm not going to hurt you. In fact, I'm going to make your day."

He blinks. "W-what?"

"What's your name?" I try to make my voice sound friendly, but I'm not sure if I manage it.

"I, uh... Stan?" He straightens up a little, like he's actually sort-of sure I'm not going to throw him off the building.

"Come with me, Stan. It'll be worth your while."

I turn and walk out onto the rooftop. After a second or two, he follows over to stand next to me. "So, uh..?"

I interrupt, pointing across the way. "You see the men in that apartment?"

Stan nods. "Uh, yeah. Are they... okay?"

"They're criminals."

He deflates a little. "Oh."

"There's a 100,000$ reward for their capture."

He perks back up again. "Oh?"

"You call it in, deal with the authorities for me, and I'm willing to give you 25,000 of that reward."

His mouth drops open. "Oh, I, wha-, um... oh, erm..."

I quickly interrupt. "Just nod or shake your head."

He immediately nods. I grin. "Good. Now, how well do you know Portland?"

\--

AN1 - I did a little research into Bounty Hunting in the US (That shit is insane, btw, Americans. Your country is really fucked up to televise people literally hunting each other. Egad.) and apparently the practice is illegal in Oregon, so there goes my plan for Maxie to make her money. So, instead I'm going for most wanted lists, stuff like that. Figured the '100,000$ for information leading to their capture' type deals would be a decent way for Max to find profitable work.


	13. The Project

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter XIII: The Project - Friday  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> AN:  
> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> Sorry for the delay in uploading. I've been hella busy this year trying to plan for my final year dissertation experiment.
> 
> The second scene with Jefferson here was so hard to write. I was trying for a "I could photograph any of you in a dark corner" type exchange, but I'm not sure if it came off right. There isn't exactly a photographic technique alluding to being marooned on a desert island and experimented on by crazy mad-scientist types, and while I was tempted to make a castaway joke, I'm not really sure if it's IC for Jefferson to just yell "Wilson!" at random. :)
> 
> Oh, and I have a question for y'all. If you had a time machine about the size of an Iphone that could take you 30,000 years into the past or future, where would you go? I've got a time travel story planned, and I'm curious if there's anything in particular y'all would want from it. (For those of you who've seen this already, I'm just gonna be copy-pasting it onto every post I make until I manage to upload this planned story.)
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I return to Blackwell to find a perfectly silent morning. It was so quiet, I could hear the grass rustling under my feet as I walk up to the wall near my window. I close my eyes, concentrate for a moment, and jump up onto the wall. There's a second where I think it's not going to work and I'm going to fall back into Samuel's flower beds, but my hands stick to the wall as they always do, and I crawl up it to my window.

I pull myself through, careful to avoid knocking over the bookcase, then slide the window shut behind me. I daintily hop down from my desk and land neatly in the chair just as the pipes around me start thrumming, marking the 4am switch-on of the school boilers.

I can almost feel the thrum through my feet as I sit and think over the deal I'd made with Stan. He was going to come in very useful. The Homeless in Portland all stuck together, and he'd been one of them for years. He knew everyone, and they trusted him. And that, I could use. I'd gotten a new target (Tiny Robinson, a bank robber) and I needed to hand off the name to Stan and his homeless network. The police file hadn't given me anything specific enough to find him as easily as Floyd. But the Homeless weren't cops. They knew places the police would never think to look, and could go there without being noticed.

I didn't trust him. I didn't trust many people these days. But he'd come in-

There was a sudden knock at the door.

I stayed quiet for a beat, then called out. "Who is it?"

"Rachel."

I immediately hopped up and opened the door. I didn't think about why. "Hi."

She smiles. "Hi."

After a few seconds, we realise we're both staring. And still smiling.

I look away.

She doesn't.

"Can I come in?"

I nod, and scurry back inside, quickly tidying things away, as subtly as I can. When Rachel's grin gets bigger, I know I failed. I plant myself back on my desk chair and, after a minute of flailing my hands about, I clasp them together in my lap and try to say something. It turns into a strange, strangled sound - what the hell is wrong with me? - and I croak out "So, what brings you by, Rachel?"

Oh dog, she's still smiling, the bitch. "Oh, I just heard you coming in, thought I'd say hi, subtly inquire what you were doing up at this time of morning, maybe make a few remarks about Chloe's job, that kinda thing."

I blink. "Oh, um. Okay. Hi."

"Hi."

We smile at each other again, sitting in silence. "So..." Rachel looks at me expectantly.

"So..?" I respond, awkwardly, hoping desperately that she'll take the hint. There's a reason I don't talk to people about things, and that is because I suck at lying. I never could do it, even before... Before.

And there's no way I can tell Rachel that I was just capturing a wanted criminal.

Oh, and I made a deal with a homeless man to be my interface with the police in exchange for a crapload of money while we work together to capture more.

Can't forget that...

She gives me a cheeky grin. "Have fun with Chloe?"

I blink again. "What?"

She blinks back. "Um. With Chloe? Fun? Have?"

I frown and say, before I can think about it "What? I wasn't with Chloe."

She tilts her head, smiles, and leans forward towards me. "Oooh. Now I'm interested. What were you doing out so late, then?"

I sigh. "Rachel.., I..." have no idea what to say right now... Seriously, how do people do this? Lying is so stressful, and I've not actually said one yet! Dog, I miss fighting criminals.

"Me? Hmm. I'd've thought I'd notice if someone was doing me..." She winks, and I roll my eyes and try to ignore the fact that I'm blushing again, damnit.

She raises her hands. "Fair enough, Maxie. If you don't want to gossip with me, that's okay." She tilts her head, like she's remembering something. "Oh, and I have some free time this evening, if you'd like to get together and work on the project a little early?"

Other than handing off the name, I had nothing to do, so I nodded. "Okay."

She smiles. "Marvellous. I had a few ideas myself, but it'll be fantastic to get a real photographer's take on things."

My face flushes. "I'm not really a..."

She waves a hand. "Nonsense. You really need to stop doubting yourself, Maxie."

I shrug. I really wasn't a photographer. I hadn't used a camera in years, and my work for Jefferson was barely getting a passing grade. There's a dark little chuckle in my head as a familiar voice reminds me exactly why I hadn't used one.

I shiver, eliciting another pleased giggle from The Hunter, but Rachel doesn't seem to notice, still talking about... something.

*flashback begins*

Over her subsequent weeks in the treehouse, Max quickly mastered the crossbow. Her aim was true in the most strenuous situations, and Artemis was delighted to see her care for the animals she fought with. She'd even reclaimed her former mastery of the sword. And both done free from the cold burning anger of the Hunter.

Artemis' presence seemed to keep that... parasite, at bay. Max hadn't the faintest idea what it was about the older woman, but whenever Artemis' eyes met hers, the Hunter's presence fled to the depths of her mind. It baffled and delighted her, finally able to live without the constant awareness and hyper-vigilance the Hunter embodied.

As the trust between the two grew, Artemis slowly revealed more and more of herself. She made no speeches, never sat Max down for an in-depth, emotional conversation, merely dropped small hints, little threads peppered into conversation that Max began to weave together into the tapestry of Artemis' life.

She'd begun much as Max had, a castaway lost on the Island after a shipwreck. She'd tried surviving on her own, but seventeen year old socialite girls do not do well when suddenly thrown into jungle survival. There were probably at least a half dozen daytime television shows demonstrating that much. After almost a week of slowly starving to death, she'd been picked up by Prescott agents.

Confused and delirious, she was experimented upon, opened up and changed from the inside out, then discarded when she didn't measure up to the Doctor's 'requirements'. Artemis hadn't elaborated on the huge, rot-filled corpsepit outside the Prescott Mountain that she called 'The Abattoir', but the dark look in her eyes told Max enough that she didn't want to ask.

She'd crawled her way out of the Abattoir, and fled as far from the Mountain as she could. She travelled away from the central island, making for the outer isles of the chain and, after dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, she'd found the grove that her home was now built around. It was beautiful, peaceful and, most importantly, far away from the Prescotts.

Over time, as she extended her presence out from the grove, she came into contact, and conflict, with the local inhabitants. This was the one story Artemis had told in full; the story of Sheriff Levinia Stone.

Max had caught sound of people living on the shore of their little island and asked about them, but Artemis had put off telling her for days. It was a lighter evening when she finally began her tale; the air was warm and wet, as was typical of nights on the Island in the summer season. The two friends had taken a meal on one of Artemis' observation decks, enjoying the panoramic moonlit view of the region it provided.

Aside from two short interruptions from Artemis' various animal companions (Max assumed they were providing her some sort of information, but she couldn't tell what), neither of them had made a sound, concentrating on the meal and the view.

After they'd both finished, Artemis had begun to speak. "The... people in the town, they are not like us. Though they are still Children of Ratigan, he discarded them at earlier stages in his experiments, leaving their minds addled and their bodies twisted."

"Offshoots." No more needed to be said. Max knew their kind well.

Artemis nodded. "When I first came here, they were wild and disorganised, but mostly peaceful. Until Sheriff Stone and her people arrived." She takes a deep breath, and even Max can read the guilt, the sadness, in her expression. "They brought the Offshoots together, under their banner, and waged war against anyone who wouldn't join them."

Max blinks, digesting the information, but says nothing. It took no large leap in logic to guess that Artemis came under that category.

"I'd gained a few friends by then, all of whom joined together with me hoping to stop her. But she picked us off, one by one, until only I was left."

Max doesn't reach out, doesn't say anything. Artemis wasn't the sort to be reassured by physical contact. She just listens.

"They came for me once, in the treehouse, but I bruised their noses well enough that they thought better of it, retreated back to that town of theirs." Artemis waves a hand vaguely in its direction, bringing the other to massage her temple.

She takes a deep breath. "That was after they managed to do this," her hand gestures to her milky-white eyes. "to me. One of my companions was surrounded in the battle, and I charged in to help him without thinking." She shakes her head and her face wrinkles in self-disgust. "I missed the damn flamethrower. He was cooked inside his armour, and I came out like this."

Max let out a deep breath of her own as her mind added that cruelty to the long, long list of others she'd witnessed on Lian Yu. On Purgatory. It seemed the island had earned that name for everyone, not merely her. "What happened to the Sheriff?"

"The Prescott's were disappointed by their failure to kill me, but their success with the Offshoots merited them a fortress built in their town. They stay there, most days, content to fatten themselves up at the expense of those below them." She snorts. "Lazy scum. If it weren't for their defences, and the Prescott security force, I'd have taken them down years ago. I could've stopped all of this..."

Max watches quietly as her friend's form slowly sags down into her chair, head falling into her hands.

After a second, she stands, and walks away, leaving the older woman to her private misery.

*flashback ends*

"Max? Hey, Max? Are you getting distracted by my ethereal beauty again? Hello?" Rachel laughs a little, wafting her hand in front of my face. I blink vaguely at it, then shift back, trying to put more distance between us. 'cause she was waaay closer than I thought she was, kneeling down in front of me.

"I'm fine. What did you say?"

She grins. "Wow Max, I know Chloe said you were spacy, but this is the first time it's gotten that long without some serious herbal help. You sure you're okay?"

I nod absently, holding myself as still as possible to stop the shudders spreading through my body. "Fine. Just tired."

Rachel's grin flicks back on like a flashlight. "Say no more, Maxie. I'll get out of your hair, then."

She stands up, and swaggers over to the door. I barely have time to wave absently before she's vanished out of it.

Huh.

Okay.

So, that happened.

I shake my head and pull myself together. Things to do, Max. Things to do.

\--

As photography, my last class of the day, finishes, I'm already planning out the rest of my afternoon. First I'd need to hand off Tiny's name, then I could go find Rachel. As I was about to reach the door, a calm, cool voice called out from behind me "Max? Do you have a minute?"

I sigh and turn around to see Mr Jefferson stood at his desk, quietly observing me. "I suppose, sir."

He smiles genialy as I walk over. "Good. I just wanted to talk about your entry for the contest."

"My entry, sir?" I ask, completely confused by his interest. Did I do something to make him curious?

He nods. "You're working with Rachel, correct?"

I return his nod. "Yessir."

He smiles, and I have to stop myself from shivering at his gleaming white teeth. Seeing teeth like that on the Island were a sure sign you were about to get your throat ripped out by something big and hungry. "Good, good."

Good?

"I just wanted to ask," he continues "how everything was going with that? I know you joined late, and I don't want that to put you too far behind. I'm happy to help, if you need it."

I shake my head. "Thank you sir, but I'm okay."

He smiles again. Jefferson really did smile a lot. "There's no shame in admitting if you need help, Max." He leans back a little and his face does this thing that I think was supposed to be wistful, but I recognised as his 'I'm going to tell an 'I'm such an old, but still cool, professional' story with a vague moral instead of just telling you what I want you to know' expression.

I really, really hated that expression. [AN1]

"I remember a time when I was in school, back in the olden days," He stops a beat, like he's waiting for me to laugh. I'm not sure why, but I give him an obedient smile regardless. "when I had to ask for help with a project. I felt so weak and ashamed, like I was handing over control of my work, of my art, to someone else. But sometimes we have to let others control us, until we learn how to take control for ourselves."

He pauses for a second, searching for his next words.

"You need to find that thing inside you, that yearns for control, and let it out. Use it to find your image, and take it." He smiles, again, emphasising his next point with a finger directed at me. "Always take the shot. Remember that, Max. Nothing worse than a missed opportunity."

"I'll try that." I definitely won't, I think, as the Hunter shakes at his cage. "But it's okay, sir, really. Rachel's been very helpful. We might even have a winning entry."

He laughs. "Well, I certainly can't fault your confidence. Okay, Max. Just remember what I said. I'm always here, if you need anything."

I nod.

I'm so confused right now.

"Thank you, Sir."

I left the classroom, and I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.

\--

I walk up to Rachel's door and knock on it. I'm a little early, but I'm sure she won't mind. Will she? Oh dog, I don't know if she will. What if she's getting ready, or working on something else? What if she's running late herself and-

The door swings open and Rachel stands there with a grin. "Hey Maxie!" She leans in and kisses me on the cheek, then twirls and head back inside. "Come on in!"

I follow her in, taking my first look at her room.

It's exactly what I'd expect of Rachel. Soft textures and colours, a hint of scented candles covering up the weed smell. There's a dreamcatcher hanging over her bed, and textbooks and papers filed neatly in a set of shelves along the left wall that link into an old, expensive looking desk that seems to be built into the whole structure.

I barely have a moment to wonder how the hell they got it in here before my attention drifts back to Rachel again as she plonks herself down onto the bed and waves a hand at the rest of the room. "Make yourself at home. Mi casa e su casa."

I nod, and take a seat on her desk chair.

Wow.

This is the most comfortable thing I've sat in in my entire life.

It takes everything I have not to lean into the fabric and nuzzle it.

Rachel notices.

Obviously.

"You want me to leave you and my chair alone for a little while?"

I sit up, mumbling something about it being nothing or just okay and absolutely not looking at her face that I know is spread into a shit-eating grin, but she waves me off. "No, don't let me get in the way of you two getting to know each other. Mi casa e su casa, remember?"

I can hear the laughter in her voice. Damn it. "So, the theme of bonds, right?"

"Right. And I know what you're thinking, but putting me in handcuffs isn't the type of bonds Jefferson meant." I blush, and Rachel pauses thoughtfully. "Well, probably not. Might be able to swing it, I guess."

"No, I... could you..." I groan, and let my head fall into my hands, already knowing I'm redder than a tomato. Damnit Rachel.

She laughs, clapping her hands in delight as she leans back. "You're so cute when you blush, Maxie. Actually," she amends, thoughtfully "you're pretty cute all the time."

My blush gets worse.

And with that, and no more confusing freaking banter, we get to work. Immediately, it's clear Rachel knows her stuff. She corrects gently, guides along, and builds up ideas without being intrusive. Needless to say, I let her take the lead and over the next couple of hours we quickly get several ideas down to try the next day.

After we put the final touches on the plan, Rachel sits back in her seat and looks over at me with a grin. "Damn, Max. That was actually fun. If you'd been around, maybe Chloe would actually attend classes more than twice a week."

I blush.

I really have to try get control over that.

And of course, she chuckles at me. "You're cute when you're flustered too." She sighs dramatically, bringing up one hand and resting the back of it against her forehead like a 50s movie ingenue. "How is a girl supposed to deal with so much cute around her all the time?"

My shoulders sag and I let my eyes drift down to my feet. "Sorry, I mean, I can totally stop hanging around as much if you-" I don't know what this thing I'm feeling right now is, but I definitely don't like it.

She puts a hand down and lifts my head back up to hers, her face suddenly serious. "Hey, Maxie, calm down. I was kidding."

I blink in surprise, feeling my cheeks get red as I blush again. "Oh, I-uh... oh."

She smirks. "Maybe I should get a little sign made. I can hold it up so you know when I'm joking." Her smirk turns fond, and she just... looks at me.

I chuckle nervously, trying to calm myself down and get my face to go back to a normal freaking colour. After a second, it trails off into quiet, and we sit in silence looking at each other.

I don't notice that I'm smiling just as much as she is.

"So, are you looking forward to the party tomorrow?"

I smile, nodding. "Sure am! Gonna get home with the downies." (AN2)

"It's, uh, down with the homies, Max. And you really don't have to come, if you don't want to, y'know."

"I just said-"

"You lied."

The two words feel like bullets to the chest, and my heart almost stops.

It starts again as she flashes me a dazzling grin.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"You're kinda bad at it." She snorts. "You really don't have to come though, if you don't want. We can skip, and go to the junkyard instead, if you want?"

"No, I'm-I'm okay. I want to do this."

She rolls her eyes. "Really, Max, it's okay. After what you've been through, nobody would blame you for wanting to be on your own for a while."

I scoff. "You don't know what I've been through."

She shrugs. "Unless you tell me."

My entire body freezes, and I can feel the Hunter grin. "I-I don't..."

Rachel gives me a sad, small smile. "I know. And that's okay." She hesitates for a second, then offers softly "I know whatever happened isn't the kinda thing you want to talk about to just anyone. But if you ever decide you want to, I promise to just listen, okay?"

I meet her eyes with a small smile of my own. "I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "I told you. It's okay. And I know I'm saying okay a lot, but it is. Okay, that is. Yeah. Oookay."

She suddenly stands. "You want some water? I need some water." She skitters off to a small minifridge, reaching down to pull out a couple of bottles of water. My hearing was good enough to catch her muttered "Damnit. Keep your shit together, Rachel."

I frown in confusion. What does that mean?

She skitters back and flops down into her chair again, no trace of anything other than her usual friendly snark on her face. Not that I'd really notice if there was, but I guess I'm getting better at Rachel.

We sit in silence until it becomes so uncomfortable that I have to move, have to do... something to get away from it. So, I stand up, ignoring Rachel's confused glance, and walk over to one of her bookshelves.

Rachel's taste was anything but discriminating, sci-fi and fantasy mixed in with romance, chick-lit, westerns, volumes of Dostoyevsky packed in next to an entire set of something called Twilight, which was shoved up against leatherbound copies of Lord of the Rings, Lord of the Flies, and Lord of the Dance, which lead on to textbooks about Jazz, Ancient Architecture, Learning of Latin and Tokalau, and more I didn't have the energy to read. "You like books."

Rachel slinks over to me, running her hand along the spines. "I love them. The smells, the words, the covers, all of it. You?"

I absentmindedly match her motion, moving my hand along the shelf in front of me. "Hmm?"

"Do you like books? "

"Each man delights in the work that suits him best."

She grins. "Fan of the classics, huh? I love Homer."

I smile as the memories return, stealing into the great library and finding whatever I could from its still-burning remains. "The Oddysey is one of my favourites. It's about someone trying to make their way home, after a long time away." I smirk. "Something I can relate to, obviously."

"Obviously." Rachel echoes. She tilts her head, looking over at me. "Do you have a favourite line?"

"Even so I will endure, for already I have suffered much, and much have I toiled in perils of waves and war." I offer, eyeing Rachel in hopes of somehow gauging her reaction. I want to give her something, offer just a tiny tidbit of trust, but I absolutely cannot have her finding out what really happened.

She smiles, sweet and simple. "That's a good line." The look in her eye makes me think she understands what I'm trying to say. "but my favourite has always been; even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured."

I blink in quiet shock as I understand what she's trying to say, her face changes to a broad grin and I realise my face has changed to a grin too.

We sit in smiling quiet for a few seconds before Rachel changes the subject again, chattering about something to do with the party tomorrow, like nothing happened.

But I know it did.

After a while, I excuse myself with something lame, but Rachel smiles and nods understandingly as she says goodbye.

\--

AN1 - This just a Max thing, not a me thing. I actually like it when Teachers get all storyteller on their students. It provides a soul to information that would be otherwise bland and uninteresting.

AN2 - Please don't anyone actually say this. It's so gross. Also, quoted from Dylan Moran. He's pretty cool.


	14. Dances of Different Kinds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter XIV: Dances of Different Kinds - Saturday/Tuesday  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> AN:  
> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> Uh, author note, author note... *pats down pockets* I knew I put one around here somewhere... Darn. Nevermind. I guess you'll just have to make do with another update instead. :)
> 
> Oh, and I have a question for y'all. If you had a time machine about the size of an Iphone that could take you 30,000 years into the past or future, and teleport you to any lat-long coordinates of your choice while doing so, where would you go? I've got a time travel story planned, and I'm curious if there's anything in particular y'all would want from it. (For those of you who've seen this already, I'm just gonna be copy-pasting it onto every post I make until I manage to upload this planned story.)
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.
> 
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Have you seen Max? She should be here by now." The party was at full fucking blast, me and Rach had been here for an hour already. But Max hadn't shown up. She's seriously fucking late. Like, the hella rude kind of late, not the fashionable kind of late me and Rach had down.

Rachel shrugs, staring off into the crowd around us. "Not since she snuck back into the dorms last night."

I frown. "Max was out?"

"Yeah." Rachel hmms, looking down at her drink as she thinks it over. "Late, too. Must've been four, maybe five when I saw her."

"Huh." The dj switched up the music, some kinda darkwave bullshit. Eurgh. Why do they let these fuckwits near a playlist?

I stay quiet, just swaying to the beat, until Rachel's arms suddenly wrap around me and her voice comes out hella low next to my ear. "What do you suppose she was doing out so late, hmm?"

I slump back against her with a groan. "Rach, for fuck's sake. We've been over this shit already. Leave it alone, okay?"

"But Chloe!" She whines.

Rachel. Fucking. Whines.

What the shit has Max done to her?

She counts off on her fingers. "She's out all the time, she barely talks about anything, her freckles are the freaking cutest thing I've ever seen, and-" I feel a mild burst of jealousy that I bludgeon down inside my head. Nope, no need to have that shit around.

But I can feel her thrumming with curiosity and it pisses me off. "-and seriously, Rach, leave it the fuck alone. If she wants you to know, she'll tell you. Max is hella unsubtle. She doesn't play all those shitty games you play."

"Moi?" Rachel puts a hand to her chest, and I have to force myself to pull my eyes back up to hers. "Games? You wound me, Chloe."

"Yeah, yeah. Knock it off, Rachel."

She blinks at the stern sound in my voice. I groan. "Fucking hell, I sound hella like Step-Douche."

Rachel grins. "I don't know, it's lacking something... Maybe add in a bit about how I'm a disappointment to my mother. Oooh, or maybe something about how I need to show more respect."

I roll my eyes, but I can't help grinning back.

She takes a quick swig from whatever the fuck she's drinking. It's like twelve different colours and has a piece of fruit on a stick. Rachel always did love her weird fruity shit. Me, I'm happy with a fucking beer.

Trevor stumbles past, clearly hella wasted, and Max steps suddenly out of the crowd in front of us. We both blinked at her in shock. It was like in those shitty spy movies, where a car drives past and the informant or whoever the dude was meeting just appears out of fucking nowhere.

I grin. Hella cool.

She looks fucking terrified though, which kinda ruins the effect, staring with hella wide eyes at everyone dancing around her. We wave, and she skitters over, shoulders hunched as she avoids looking at anyone else in the room.

D'aww. She's so cute.

She smiles when she gets to us. "Hi."

"Hey Supermax."

Rachel unlatches from me and twirls over to Max, putting an arm over her shoulder and guiding her over to our corner. "So, Maxie, what do you think? Your first Vortex party, right?"

Max blinks. "Um. It's very loud." She gives everyone dancing around her a hella distressed look. "And crowded."

I snort. "Uh, yeah. It's a party, Max."

She flashes a small, kinda absent smile, then goes back to watching everyone around us. It's... like she's trying to keep her eye on every single person around us at once. Rach stays clamped onto her for a sec, trying (and failing) to catch her eye with her usual flirty grin. When she doesn't get shit back, her smile drops and she slinks back over to me.

It takes everything I got not to laugh. She looks like a kid who just got told she wasn't tall enough to ride the rollercoaster (Something that'd actually happened to Max a couple times, the poor, short little fucker.).

Rachel flashes me an irritated look, mouthing "Oh my god..." and flicking her eyes over to Max. I scowl at her, opening my mouth to tell her I told her so, but I catch Max looking puzzled at me.

"Hey Maxie?" Max turns to look at Rach. "You thirsty? I'm going back over to the bar." She wiggles her empty glass. "Get a refill."

Max shakes her head. "No thanks. I don't drink."

Rachel grins. "That's not what I hear."

Max tilts her head curiously at Rach, then me. "Um. Sorry?"

Rach smirks, leans over to Max. "Oh, I hear you're quite the wine fan, right?"

Max immediately flushes and mutters something about 'being lead astray by a hella hot best friend'...

Okay, so she didn't say the last bit, but it's what she meant. Honest. My Powers of Best Friendship Max-Translation told me so.

Rach shrugs, pouts disappointedly. "So no wine then, gotcha. Chlo, do you want anything?"

I shake my head and hold up my beer. "I'm good."

Rach nods "Cool.", then slinks off into the crowd.

I watch her twirl and dance her way through to the bar. I'm not the only one. She brushes up against a few people, who turn to watch her as she goes past. When she goes past Hayden and his weird girlfriend-fuck buddy pair, Olive and Ellie (AN-1), she runs her fingers along his shoulders and laughs when he gives her a foggy grin. They chat for a few seconds, she nods to Ellie and Olive, then moves on to the next group.

That was Rach in a fucking moment. Able to drop in, make herself fit in in seconds, then drifts off whenever she fucking pleases.

I sigh.

Damnit.

"Hey, Max?"

She doesn't respond.

I look back around and Max has fucking disappeared again. Goddamnit. I really wanted to try loosen her up a bit. Maybe get her baked again. She's been hella high strung since she got back, I thought partying might kinda help her relax a bit.

Apparently fucking not.

I scowl at myself (So fucking stupid...) just as Rachel twirls back over to me, another multicoloured drink in her hand, and a flirty grin flitting hella lightly over her face. "Maxie hit the bathroom already? She really is a lightweight."

I shake my head. "She fuckin' ditched."

Rachel's eyes open a little more. "She's gone?"

"Yeah, she's fucking gone." I sigh. God-fucking-damnit...

"Who's gone?"

I whirl to see Max standing there, looking puzzled.

"Uh, wh-where'd you go?" I look anywhere but at her. "I thought you'd... gone."

She shakes her head, points off into the crowd. "Thought I saw someone. Went to say hi."

Rach tilts her head curiously. "Oh? Who'd y'see?"

"Kate Marsh."

"Oh, Kate! She's a blast, isn't she?" Rach smiles sadly. "Such a shame what happened to her."

I frown. "What? What happened?"

"She came to a Vortex Party and got... well... wrecked." Rach shrugs. "Turns out she can't hold her booze. She made out with a whole bunch of people and, like assholes, someone recorded it."

"Huh..." I don't know her, like, at all, but she doesn't seem the type. Guess you don't really know anyone until you've gotten them drunk at a Vortex party.

We all go quiet for a few seconds, before Rach flashes another grin. "You two wanna join me on the dance floor?"

I shrug and down my beer. "I'm down. This beat's not as shitty as the rest. You comin', Max?"

Max eyes the crowded dance floor and her mouth crinkles. "I, uh..."

I snort. Still Max Caulfield. "It's okay, Max. I'll let you sit this one out." I grin. "But I will get you to shake that bony white ass of yours one day, hipster."

Max gives me one of those genuine smiles again, then turns back to the bar and hella quietly asks for a water.

Rach and I hit the dance floor, and stay there most of the night. By the time we get back, Max has gone. We don't see her again until the end of the night when we're heading back to Rach's dorm.

Rach laughs, twirling around in front of me as we stumble back through the night, trying to get across the campus without triggering sergeant pepper-us-with-bullshit-and-pissy-uh... yeah. Stepdouche. "Catch me if you ca-an!"

I roll my eyes, trying to keep from falling, right foot, in front of the other, then the... shit, what comes after right? Three? Nah, I'm ballsy but even I don't have three feet. I take another couple of steps, somehow managing to stay stood up, and thunk straight into Rach's back. I fall back and eat dirt. "What the hell, Rach? Why'd you..." I get back up, and follow her gaze to the top of the hill and... "Holy shit."

I stop, and I stare, because Max is dancing and it's graceful as shit.

Like, I always thought Rachel was graceful, all precise moves and coordinated limbs that my clumsy ass couldn't ever hope to match, but Max is...

Woah.

She twirls and twists and turns, and it's... "Fucking wow." Rachel breathes out beside me.

I nod without saying anything. I can't take my eyes off her.

She goes hella smoothly from the twirling to sweeping out with her arms and legs, like she's trying to catch someone by the ankles.

We spin around as some vortexers stumble down the stairs from the main grounds. Rach quickly drops into the bushes. "Hide!" I roll my eyes and do as she says. We stay crouched in the bushes and watch as they go past, heading 'round the corner and in the door to the dorms.

When we turned back, Max was gone.

\--

I drop down from my perch, silently landing behind the lone figure staring off into the distance. "Hello, Stan."

Stan whirls, barely muffling a squeak of shock. "I, uh, I..."

I smile. "It's okay, Stan. Your friends say Tiny is here?" Stan had mobilised the homeless the minute I'd found a new target. Seeing everything, yet never seen themselves, they were the perfect informants. They'd managed to find my target in less than two days. He'd had to promise them another chunk of the reward, but they'd earned it.

He takes a few deep breaths and nods. "Y-yes. Over there, in the sewer." He points to a large metal door set into a stone wall. He says nothing for a few seconds, then suddenly starts "Oh, I have- I have a map!" He pulls a crumpled piece of paper from a pocket and thrusts it towards me.

I take it and carefully look it over. Hmm. Seems like tight quarters. Low manoeuvrability in there. "Thanks, Stan."

He grins. "No problem, Stranger."

I hadn't wanted to tell him my real name, so I used the name I had on the Island. It seemed appropriate.

Stan straightens up. "Nena says he's been seen using multiple entrances, so he's probably got a lot of ways to run."

I smile darkly. "That's fine. He won't have chance to use them."

He shivers a little, then nods. "Okay, I'll wait here for you."

Without another word, I turn and head for the sewer. There was a small chamber just beyond the door, with passages off to the left and right. The map said right so I went right, following the curving passage along to another t-junction. I followed the map left, then straight, then right, finding myself at the top of a steep incline.

The incline had a small, but steady, stream of... waste flowing down it. I carefully picked my way down, making it to about halfway before my feet suddenly slid out from underneath me and I... went with the flow, landing neatly in the darkness at the bottom of the incline.

Wowzers, that was good for the heart rate.

I reach into my pocket for the map and... fuck. I must've dropped it in the fall. It was too dark to see anything in my normal vision. I'd have to switch over.

The Foundation were scum, but they gave me a few useful gifts. I stop moving and close my eyes, concentrating as I'd been taught to. After a few seconds, I opened them again, blinking owlishly. The blue of my eyes had leaked from my iris to fill my entire eye, and my pupils had reshaped to thinned-ovals to allow as much light in as possible. The dark room was now visible, but only in black and white. They'd never worked out how to get Night Vision to allow for colour.

I scanned the room, looking for... there! I scooped up the now destroyed map with a sigh.

Damnit. I let it fall again.

Okay then. Lost in an unfamiliar underground area, with no definite idea of where to go. Heh. Not the first time.

There were three exits from the room I was in. One went down again, so that was out. The other two both went off in the same direction. They'd likely join up again later. So, I picked one at random and followed it along. Sure enough, they linked back up about 300 metres ahead, into a five tunnel crossroad.

I was about to pick randomly again, when I caught... something. The faintest sound, of... were those words? I couldn't tell, but they were something. And I didn't have any other leads.

So, I stood still, closed my eyes, and focused my hearing. Another of the Foundation's 'gifts'. I tilted and shifted my head, trying to pinpoint a direction.

Front... and to the left! I looked off down the corridor in that direction. Seemed clear, so I crept down it, listening for the possibly-voices. They were intermittent, so I had to stop often, but eventually I found my way to their source.

A light up ahead warned me of company, and that I needed to change my eyes. So, I closed them, then reopened them, smiling as colours spilled back into the room.

I ducked down behind a conveniently placed waist-high concrete wall and kept an eye on the two men leaning on opposite sides of a metal door in the far wall. One was laughing, the other was glaring. They were both holding submachine guns, stubby little things with short stocks and short barrels.

I snorted. If they were supposed to be guards, they were doing a terrible job. I stood, loaded two bolamites into my crossbow and quick-fired them down the corridor. Webbing exploded over the two guards, sticking them to the walls.

I sauntered over, quickly recovering the two expended bolamites and returning them to my pouch. I pulled the guards down, one at a time, knocking them out, trussing them up, and dragging them out of the light.

When I was sure the two were secured, I went back over to the door and listened for movement. Four..? No. Six. Possibly more. The room beyond was large, by the resonance of what I could hear, but that meant the sounds would echo too much to be exactly sure. Either way, there were too many for a frontal assault. I'd have to poke around, find one of Tiny's alternate ways in.

I spent the next hour scoping out the area, following tunnels and checking doors, and I found a possible way in. It wasn't going to be comfortable.

I hopped down into the freezing, shit-filled water and started wading through the pipe. I really hoped this went where I thought it did. It'd seriously suck to have gone through this to find a dead end.

After seven agonising minutes, I finally make it to the end. Lucky for me, it empties out into a smallish pool in the large room. It's simple to avoid, and I drop down onto the ground and dart behind one of the two pillars between the pool and the rest of the room.

Oh dog. I was right. There were definitely more than six. The room had two levels, a main central area below, and a metal walkway above that wrapped around the edge of the walls, with several doors leading to side rooms. Three tables had been pushed together in the middle of the room, and seven people were playing cards on it. Another two were patrolling the lower perimeter, three more were patrolling above. I could see two in a side room, but my view of it was obscured so there could've been more.

Tiny had definitely invested in his muscle. I couldn't see him anywhere. He had to be in one of the upstairs rooms, which meant I'd need to clear out down here first. Never leave enemies behind you.

I could pick off the goons on the periphery easily. The room was dark and sightlines were poor. It was just the seven card players in the middle that would be a problem.

A stunkz cloud to the middle of that table would scatter the players, but I'd be stuck dealing with armed, alerted people at distance. I'm fast, but not that fast. Sooner or later, someone would hit me.

The lights! The dark would be no limitation to me, but it'd make their lives far more difficult. They'd be lucky not to hit each other.

Okay, so. I had a plan, now all I needed was an opportunity. Kicking in the door wasn't an option here, I'd need to do this right. I watched the patrollers, trying to find a pattern in their movements. Oh shit! I ducked back behind the pillar to avoid being seen by one of the lower perimeter patrollers.

When I was sure he was gone, I leaped up, pushing back off the pillar and landing on top of the pipe. I waited, listening to the tink-tink of footsteps on the walkway until one was close, then leaped up, grabbing the goon, wrapping one hand around the his middle and putting the other over his mouth, and pulling him off.

I slammed his head into the top of the pipe, then bound his hands and dropped him behind the pillar.

One down.

Taking the other two down was easy. Nothing more than waiting, then doing. I bound them both and hid them in an empty side room, then hopped down to the lower level.

One of the patrollers had joined the seven card players, laughing at one of them. "Dude, you are gonna get hosed!"

The card player elbowed the laughing man in the gut with a growl. "Shut it, asshole. I will beat you."

Laughing man took the gutshot well, then slammed a fist down onto the card player's shoulder. "That ain't gonna happen, brother. Not with those fours."

I quickly used the distraction to take the other patrolling guard down. Four down. Eight to go.

I climbed back up to the walkway, then loaded a stunkz and a pebble into my crossbow. I tightened the bandana against my face, then fired the pebble at the lights and the stunkz at the table.

The lights went out, the acidic cloud exploded through the room, and everything descended into chaos.

For them.

I took a second to let my eyes adjust, then leapt off the balcony onto the table, kicking out at one of the goons and swiping at another with my fists. They both went down with muffled groans, but they were loud enough to catch attention. "There's someone in here! Boss, Boss!?"

I flipped over the yelling man and kicked him over the table.

Two goons closed in from the left and right. They were operating in total darkness, so the strikes they threw at me were clumsy and took little effort to dodge. I pirouetted around one, grabbed his shoulders and swept him into the other. They both clattered together, falling into an unmoving heap.

Six down.

The Stunkz cloud finally caught up to people. They started coughing and spluttering, wiping at their eyes. Four of them fell to their knees, and I quickly knocked them out.

Ten down and not a shot fired.

The other two were cleared up just in time for a loud clang to echo through the room as one of the doors upstairs was slammed open and the biggest man I'd ever seen climbed out of them. When he steps onto the walkway, it creaks audibly beneath his weight. "What in Heaven is going on out here?"

When none of his men answered his question, he started scanning the room, his eyes peering through the little pince-nez perched on his blocky nose. The stunkz cloud had dissipated enough that I couldn't hide in it, and his eyes quickly narrowed on me. "You. Who the fuck are you?"

I tilt my head and watch him, saying nothing. He snorts. "Very well then, Nameless. Let's see if you're more willing to talk after I beat the crap out of you." He hops down off the walkway, landing with a thunk onto the stone floor. It cracks beneath his weight. Good. Time to dance.

He settles into an easy fighting stance. Good posture, excellent form. He's had training. Disabling him was going to be difficult. The Hunter's voice crept into the back of my mind, whispering suggestions of how to kill him. Crushing his trachea, bruising his spinal column, tearing his... No.

I could do it.

I don't need to kill him.

It'd be oh so easy.

I am not going to kill him.

You know you want to.

Disabling him was going to be difficult, but I could do it.

I would do it.

I'm going to do it.

I blink as I realise I'd grabbed Tiny's wrist mid-swing, holding his fist an inch from my face. But I didn't..? Oh. The Hunter was testing the bounds of his cage again. I throw Tiny back with a growl and he laughs, sounding delighted. "You're very quick, Nameless. Excellent. Let's see how your form holds up."

He launches into a series of blindly fast strikes. Left, right, left, left again, below! I barely manage to dodge. When he swipes at my legs, I hop over him, using his back like a springboard. He slows and turns to face me. "Very well apparently. Very good, Nameless!"

He strikes out again. I bat his hand away from me. He laughs, wryly. "Your banter leaves significant room for improvement though."

I don't rise to his bait, staying focused on the fight. With a shrug, he launches forward again, charging at me like a bull. I pirouette left, dancing out of his path as he slams into the wall behind me.

I quickly dash into his side, punching at his ribcage. I hear them crack under my barrage. He hisses with pain after each blow. To his credit, he does stay standing.

I can remedy that, though.

I slam my foot down on his shin, turning that hiss to a scream, following it with a open-palmed strike to his lower back. Apparently, pain made Tiny quicker, as he suddenly whirled and wrapped his meaty hand around my throat. In a panic, I kicked out at his face, leaving a foot-shaped purple mark across his cheek and nose.

In response, he tossed me across the room.

I tried to roll with the fall but, either by accident or by design, Tiny's throw managed to spear me on a broken and rusted fence post sticking out from a broken part of the upper walkway. I screamed as it slid into the flesh of my shoulder, leaving me hanging from the wall.

Tiny pulled himself to his feet and strode over to me. "You..." He spat out a gob of blood and teeth. "You are an annoyingly persistent problem, Nameless."

Before I can attempt a block, he slams a fist into my own ribcage. I raise up a wrist to block, but he grabs it and slams it into the wall behind me. He punches again and again until...

I scream as pain shoots through my body and kick out instinctively. My feet hit his chest and push him back a couple of feet. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to stop him hurting me.

I wriggle, trying to make it look like I'm struggling to get off the post. The post twisted in my shoulder, probably making the damage worse and definitely making me grit my teeth against the pain, but it was necessary. The movements disguised my hand darting into my pouch and closing around a critter. Tiny grins at my efforts. "Having trouble, Nameless? Let me help you..." He reaches up again, his hands going straight for my throat.

I toss the stunkz straight into his eyes.

He falls back, screaming and clawing at his eyes. "You bastard! You fucking bastard!"

I bend my legs back and push off the wall, gritting my teeth against the pain of the post sliding out of the wound. I roll my shoulder, feeling the wound. Good, nothing important.

My ribs, however, were bruised. Maybe broken. But I was still breathing.

Dog, that was close. I turn to glare at Tiny. He's lying on the ground, writhing and clawing at his eyes. Direct Stunkz exposure like that was worse than tear gas and he was feeling every effect.

I fumbled in my pouch again, pulling out a Thudslug and loading it into the crossbow. I am not getting close to him again, even if he is...

Occupied.

I flick out the crossbow, take a shaky aim, and fire.

Tiny finally hits the floor, landing like a tree. He doesn't move again.

I pull out the zipties and quietly collect all the goons, including the ones I'd left outside, piling them on the table. Tiny gets pride of place, front and centre. A thanksgiving spread for the police.

Job done, I stop for a minute to breath. I close my eyes, tilt my head back. I breath out, hard. The wound in my shoulder seals and the bruising on my ribs starts to fade as the tiny cells in my blood get to work regenerating the flesh beneath. I wouldn't be able to do this again for a few days, not until I was healed.

Even making it out of here was going to be difficult. I wouldn't be able to climb that incline like this.

Maybe Tiny has a map of his secret entrances? Hopefully one of those will be easier on my ribs. It wasn't on him, so if it existed, it'd be upstairs. I take the stairs up to the walkway and head through the door Tiny came through.

The room was small, only a little bigger than my room at Blackwell. There was a messy desk against one wall, a bed in the corner right of the door, and a cage in the far right corner.

The cage was full of bags. I knew they held his latest bank-haul, about 13 million in total. I was tempted to take one or two, but the police would notice missing money and ask questions. Easier to take the guaranteed 100,000 than risk it.

So, I went over to the desk and started rifling through papers. Most looked like messages to Tiny's associates. I memorised the names. Hopefully they'd have bounties or rewards I could cash in.

I found a series of loose pages that Tiny seemed to have been using as a diary. They... weren't the most interesting entries.

One literally just said 'Slept today'.

Another was... oh, dog. Apparently Tiny was an amateur poet. Wowzers... He definitely should've stuck to the bank-robbing.

I stand up with a scowl. Damnit, nothing. I gave the rest of the room a quick check, no map.

Fine. I'd have to make do.

I left Tiny's hideout and reversed my route until I got back to the five-corridor room. The room with the incline had no other exits, so one of these five were my only option. Three, really. One went back to Tiny's and the other went to the incline room.

The two exits to either side of the exit to Tiny's hideout were out too. They both went in the complete opposite direction to my exit.

So, I took the last remaining exit, to the right of the incline room. I walk for about thirty, maybe forty minutes before I find a t-junction. I turned left. It was the direction of my exit, so maybe there'd be a ladder there.

There wasn't.

So, I kept going. There had to be something.

Eventually, I found a ladder hidden behind a rusty old door. It was covered in slime and muck. I struggled a little to climb it, my hands kept slipping on the rungs, but I made it up.

I didn't recognise the corridor but, after a little exploring, I managed to find my way to somewhere I knew, one of the corridors I'd taken to get in. I traced my route back to the main exit, shoving the door open and stumbling out into the morning dark.

Stan looked up suddenly when I appeared and his mouth dropped open when he caught sight of me. "Stranger! Are... are you okay?"

I nod, spitting out another mouthful of blood.

The look he gives me is not convinced.

\--

The dorm was quiet when I finally got back. Everyone had gone to sleep, or gone out, hours before. I crept through the hall towards my room, trying not to hiss when the pain from my ribs shot out through my entire body. "Ow, fucking..."

"Hello?" A sharp, but quiet voice cut through the silence around me. "Who's there?"

I disappear into a dark patch, watching as Victoria Chase glares around the corridor. "Hello? Trevor, you idiot, you better not be sneaking around again or I'll rip your balls out of your-"

Seeing no other way out, I step into sight. "Hello, Your Majesty."

Victoria scowls the second she sees me. Even I can see the utter scorn in her eyes. "Oh, fucking fantastic. You again."

I nod. Hopefully if I say as little as possible, this will be over quickly.

"What the fuck are you doing sneaking around at this shitty hour?"

I shrug. "Just out for a walk."

She scoffs. "Bullshit, Jane. You're still a bad liar. What the fuck are you really doing up?"

I shrug again. "I was just out for a walk. I'm going back to my room now."

Her hand whips out and latches onto my bicep. She blinks slightly in shock when she feels the muscle there. "I will find out why you're sneaking about, sooner or later. You might as well tell me now, so I don't have to go to all the effort of destroying you."

I grab her hand and pull it off my arm. "I was out for a walk." I say slowly.

Her eyes narrow at my tone. "Bitch, I can ruin your life any fucking time I want. A little chatter here, a rumour there, and the whole school will turn against you. Or, you can just tell me the truth."

I avoid her eyes. "I am."

She scowls. "We'll see about that. Get the fuck out of here, hipster."

She steps back and lets me leave, watching as I head back to my room. As soon as the door closes behind me, I sag against it, holding my shoulder as still as I can.

Freaking Ow!

\--

AN1 - I know I got this poly ship from someone else's fic, but I can't for the life of me remember which one. They weren't the main 'pairing', but they did feature pretty prominently. Loved the characters, so I used 'em here. If anyone can place 'em, please let me know. I really wanna read that one again. Also, for the record, calling them weird is just Chloe's opinion. I don't have any problem with polyamory. So long as everyone involved is honest and happy, it's none of my business anyway.


	15. This is War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter XV: This is War - Two weeks later, Thursday, then Friday  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> AN:  
> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> There are unfortunately quite a few flashbacks in this chapter. I needed 'em all to be in the same one to get this sequence over with quickly so I can slow them down a little more in later chapters again and get both plot threads to where I need them to be. Apologies to those of you who aren't into the flashbacks. If you like 'em, apologies to you guys/gals/otherwise too. I feel like I kinda half-arsed the things to try and get this chapter done for this update (I spent most of the delay working on the latest chapter of Firewatch). 
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next two weeks were difficult as I spent the time healing, rather than working towards my mission. I hadn't been idle in five years, and being... laid-back rubbed at me. Luckily, my abilities had kept my injuries easily hideable, and the few slip-ups I'd had in front of Chloe and Rachel were even easier to pass off as sleeping badly, or injuries from my 'clumsiness'.

I snort, leaning back against the tree I was waiting for Stan by. Clumsiness had been the first things the Prescotts had 'trained' me out of. Even Perceptive Rachel hadn't seen through me, thanks to Chloe's grins and references to old injuries. Or, at least, I didn't think she had. My... leaving had happened before they'd taught me the social skills needed for my designed role. 

I didn't get much opportunity to try what little I had out, anyway. Most of my time on the Island was spent fighting. Or planning to fight. So much planning. 

*flashback begins*

It took several weeks of training and late-night conversation before Artemis brought up the Sheriff once again. The afternoon had been filled with visits from Artemis' small animal friends, and the old mutant had a contemplative air to her musings that Max and her newfound awareness quickly picked up on. She did not ask, though. Merely waited for Artemis to bring it up by herself. 

And so she did, late that evening. She called Max over to the overlook, and invited her to sit. "Tell me, do you recall our last conversation about Sheriff Stone?"

Max nodded. "Yes."

Artemis smiled at Max's terseness. "The Sheriff is moving again. My friends amongst the creatures of the forest have seen Offshoots among their trees, acting towards some purpose."

''What purpose?"

Artemis shrugged. "We don't know. But we suspect she's trying again."

"Again?"

Artemis gave the girl a significant look.

"Oh. Killing you, again."

"Indeed." Artemis waved out a hand in the direction of the Sheriff's town. "The Offshoots are congregating in the valley, only a short way from here. It seems she is marshalling her forces for an attack."

Max blinked, her mind going over the possibilities of an attack. Artemis seemed certain but... if they'd been gone for so long..? "Would they really attack you?"

Artemis nods. "I've been a thorn in their side for years. If the Prescotts demanded it, she would have to take action. If they are indeed coming for us..." After a sigh, the old woman pulls herself up straight, and declares "If they are, then we will be ready. I have had years to prepare for this." 

She turned to an owl that had been hovering on the edges of discussion, calling it over much as she had with Max. "Call to the others. The first sign of unity, and you return to me." The owl nodded, then flew off into the evening, its pale white feathers contrasting with the deep black skies until it disappears. "I believe the Sheriff will take the day to bring together the rest of her forces, then attack tomorrow night, under the cover of dark."

Artemis rolled out a map onto the table between them, and began to guide Max through the defences and protections she had laid into the treehouse and the surrounding grove. 

*flashback ends*

The faint ringing of a door bell pulls me out of my thoughts and I look up across the street to a small, independent coffeeshop we'd arranged for the pick-up. Stan was inside, sat at a table with two people in suits. 

I watch as Stan exits the coffeeshop and skitters across the road towards the empty park I was hiding in. The two FBI agents he was meeting stayed at their table, chatting. He halted just inside the gate, hissing "Stranger? Stranger!" 

I stepped out of the bushes. "Stan. Did you get it?" 

He nods, grinning. "Jesus, I've never had so much freaking money."

I smile. "You earned it, Stan."

We divide up the earnings into two, 75 thousand for him, 125 thousand for me. I immediately begin organising the list of things I have to purchase for the base. I look up to Stan. "Thank you for your help." And I really was. Thankful. Because of his help, I could start what I'd come back to do. 

I turn to leave, but he stops me before I can. "Uh, Stranger?" 

I turn back, stare.

"Is that it? Are we... done?" He sounds... disappointed. 

I grin. Good to see I'm not the only one enjoying this. "No, Stan. We're only just getting started. I'll find you again."

He smiles and nods, heading out of the park and keeping his head down. I head in the opposite direction, staying off the main streets. Being masked and armed in public was just asking for police attention. 

So, I stuck to the alleys, quietly working my way towards the city outskirts. It was going smoothly, until right when I'd almost made it to my destination. That's when I ran into trouble. 

There were two men, obviously drunk, and a woman, obviously terrified, in the alleyway. She had her back up against the wall, her clothes were torn, and she was crying quietly. 

One of them was a little way away from her, swaying as he waved a knife around. The other was up against her, one hand under her dress, the other planted on the wall above her shoulders. 

When I looked closer, the girl wriggling around ever so slightly, unconsciously trying to get away from her attackers. But her eyes never left the knife. The asshole assaulting the girl called back to the other. "Look at her wriggle, Davey. Bitch knows she can't do shit." 'Davey' cackles as the first one crows in the girls face "Can't do shit, you hear me!" 

The girl cries harder, tries to shove the guy back, but he's too strong and keeps hold of her easily despite his drunkenness. 

The Hunter watched with satisfaction. The Strong survive, the weak perish.

"But," A little voice in my head muttered. "we were weak. Artemis helped us. Those rules don't apply here." 

Before I'd even thought about it, I'd slipped into the alleyway and approached them, clicking on the little voice modulator I'd found on the cutest corner stall. "Leave the lady alone." 

The two men whirled, but the one with the woman never took his hands away from her. 'Davey', the one with the knife, snorts. "She's no lady. She ain't nuthin' but a streetrat whore." He catches sight of my outfit and laughs. "And what the fuck're you s'possed t'be? Some kinda cowboy, ridin' in to save the lil' whore?" 

I take a deep breath before speaking again. "You've had one warning. You will not get a second." 

Davey scoffs. "Fuck you, bitch." 

These two really need to get better, slightly less sexist insults. Maybe 'brigand'? 'Meddling kid'? Even 'you motherfucker' would be slightly more imaginative then 'bitch'. 

I get distracted from my mental rambling by a knife coming in low at me. It doesn't take much effort to dodge out of the way. The alcohol covered this man's presumably already awful reflexes in metaphorical molasses. I sigh as he stumbles past me, only narrowly catching himself against the other wall of the alley. 

I turn back to the other man. "Are you going to let her go, or not?" 

He spins the girl around in answer and pulls her up against him in a surprisingly solid hold. Turns out this guy holds his drink far better than Davey. "I think you're going to let us go." 

His eyes flick to my left just as he finishes he speaking and I roll my eyes, catching Davey's knife-hand mid-thrust and twisting, causing him to let out an agonised scream and let go of the knife. I catch it and fling it into the wall next to Davey's friend, where it embeds itself to the hilt and sticks. 

Both of them eye the knife in shock, and I see my opening. I grab Davey and spin, throwing him head-first into the wall. The guy holding the girl was slightly more difficult, I had to avoid hurting her, but a punch to his kidneys causes him to groan and instinctively push out the girl towards me. I catch her and spin again, standing her out of the way of the fight. I catch her eyes and smile. "Stay here, please." 

They both come at me then, with large, roundhouse sweeps that I see coming a mile away. It's one of the few times that the Hunter and I are in perfect agreement. 

For what they were trying to do, they deserve far worse, but...

These idiots aren't worth it. 

I step into Davey's swing, taking the blow to my side in exchange for open access to his ribs. I pepper him with punches, just like Tiny, grinning when he crumples. His friend goes down after a simple downward swipe onto his neck. Hardened criminals they are not. I just hope this experience will encourage them not to do this again. 

After stacking the two men to the side of the alley, I turn back to the girl, who's staring at me in open shock as I finally get a decent, uninterrupted look at her...

Oh god, she's just a kid. Basically my age.

"Are you okay, miss?"

She stares at me for a second longer, then blinks and says something in what I'm pretty sure is Spanish before shaking her head and trying again in English. "Um. Sorry. What?" 

"Are you okay?" 

She nods, numbly. "I think so. I..." She looks down at herself. "I know what they were going to do. And you stopped them from doing it. So, thank you." She smiles, sweet and self-deprecating, as she shrugs. "I know it's not much, and it doesn't even scratch the surface of what I owe you right now, but it's all I have. Thank you."

I blink behind my mask, finding her... emotion getting to me, more than I expected. "It was no trouble. They were assholes." I tilt my head. "Do you have a phone?" 

She nods. "Y-yes. Why?" 

"So you can call the police. These men might not've gotten as far as they wanted, but it doesn't mean they won't try again. If they're charged, it might stop them from doing it again. And can help them be convicted, if they do." (AN1)

The girl nods, but makes no move for her phone. She still seems kind of... numb. And I have no idea how to help. 

"What's your name?" 

"E-Emily." She takes a deep breath, forcing the words out. "Emily Cabello." 

"Nice to meet you." I spare a look back at the two men. "As nice as it can be, under the circumstances, I guess." 

She laughs, but it gets choked into a sob as she starts to really understand what could've happened here. They had a knife. And they had... intent. Pushing through every instinct I have, all of which were screaming bloody murder, I stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Emily. Listen to me. I need you to call them now. Okay?" 

She nods, still crying, but does as I ask, pulling out her phone and dialling. "He-hello?"

I listen to the call, rubbing her shoulder in what I think might be a soothing way until she hands up. "They'll..." Another breath. "They'll be here in five minutes." 

I nod, and step back, heading away to leave, to fade back into the shadows where I should probably have stayed, when the girl... when Emily calls out. "Are you, are you going?" I turn to look back at her. "What if they wake up?" 

I shake my head. "They won't." Then, I realise how that sounds and add "Not soon enough." 

There's a pause as she takes that in before asking "What do I tell them? About you?" 

I shrug. "Whatever you like. I can't stop you." 

"But..." She sounds... unsure? now. "What do you want me to say? I owe you, but they're not going to believe I took them out on my own." 

I think for a second. I'm fully healed now, and the shipments that've arrived for the lair over the last two weeks have finished, so I'm fully equipped too. Once I begin, I'm not going to be anonymous for long. So, I tell her. "I go by Stranger." 

"What?" 

"Stranger. It's my name. Well, my handle." I amend.

I need to shut up now. 

She nods, her face spreading into another smile. "Thank you, Stranger." 

That smile stays with me, even after I'm far from the alleyway. 

\--

I settle back into the cave, making sure to run a feeding check with the critturs before settling in with my computer to research the first target on the List. It's a small building, relatively unsecured. One of the Prescott garage and motor pools for their shipping vans. Prescott was a businessman, before all else. Targeting his production and logistics would get his attention.

That made it Step One. 

A format borne of advice from Artemis; think of each step as a separate goal, rather than steps toward one. Rome may have burned in a day, but the Prescott Foundation wouldn't be destroyed in one.

Over the next hour, I studied blueprints, timetables, and in-house memos of the facility, and I made a plan. Once I had that, there was nothing more I could do until I actually went there tomorrow, so I turned my sights to Kate's investigation. I'd done a little poking over the last couple of weeks, but found very little. I'd kept Kate apprised at our weekly tea-meeting (the girl really knew her teas) and, while she was disappointed, she seemed to be reassured when I told her I wouldn't stop looking. 

Unfortunately, unlike the Prescott files, I didn't have enough access or enough computer ability to find much more than I already knew. I'd have to start asking people soon, if I hoped to find more. 

A bleep from my phone alerts me to the time. Shoot. I promised Chloe and Joyce I'd be there for dinner. I'd have to start running now to make it, so... I sigh, giving my computer one last forlorn look as I switch it off and stow it in a small bag. After one last check over my creatures, I turn and leave for Chloe's. 

\--

I glare at the familiar logo emblazoned on the huge wall in front of me. 

Prescotts. 

The warehouse was exactly where the files had said it'd be. Right on the waterfront, near to the airport. It was tucked away behind a few other buildings, out of easy view. 

Nice and quiet.

I went in through the roof access. Breaking the lock was a breeze, and I crept in. The stairs lead down into a largish room, some sort of lounge. The walls were lined with crappy couches, and a square TV sat on a stained wood coffee table. Two of the walls, left and right, were windowed. Luckily, both sets of blinds were closed. I crept up to one, and peeked out. 

The room below was filled with vans. Mostly panel vans, but I could see a few larger trucks mixed in. All of them were marked with different decals: exterminators, transport services, flower delivery...

A small group was crowded around the side-door to one, laughing and smoking. 

Distracted.

I checked the other blinds, finding an empty office room. One of those modernist open ones, with everyone able to see each other. The perfect corporate panopticon. A door on the opposite side of the room was marked 'stairs', so I hurried over and pushed on it. Not locked. Jeez, these people really need to improve their security. 

I quickly headed down to the basement, trying to find the electrical room. It wasn't hard, especially compared to navigating caverns. For one thing, caverns didn't have signs. Those were helpful. 

The room was nothing extravagant, a simple room containing machinery to power the flights upstairs. I toss a zappfly at the generator, smile as it immediately fizzles out in a cloud of sparks, and settle in to wait.

Barely five minutes later, a man strolls in. He's grumbling, and not really paying attention to his surroundings.

His mistake.

I dart out of the corner and grab him in a headlock. He struggles for a second but I'm too strong for him. Eventually, he gives up and tries to talk. "Who-"

That's as far as I let him get. I hold my hand firmly over his mouth and start to talk. "Don't say anything. Nod if you understand." 

He nods. 

"Good. I'm going to ask you some questions. Nod for yes, shake for no. Understand?"

He nods. Good.

"This building is owned by the Prescotts, right?"

He nods.

"Are there people in the building other than the group in the motor pool?"

He shakes his head.

"Is there a ventilation system running in the pool?"

He shakes his head. There goes that plan. 

"Can they get out of the building in less than five minutes?"

He nods.

I smile.

Excellent.

I lean in. "If you're asked about this, tell them the Stranger was responsible. Understood?"

He nods.

"Repeat it." 

"The Stranger was responsible." 

I nod. 

"Good." 

I release him, and pull open the door. "Run now. I'm going to blow up the building." 

*flashback begins*

The Sheriff's force came, exactly as expected, under the cover of nightfall. The stealth effect was somewhat ruined by the whooping and hollering and poor woodcraft. The horde of offshoots was the antithesis of uniform, every weapon, every outfit, even every physiology was different. Huge, hulking offshoots stomped along next to tiny skittering rat-like offshoots that darted between the legs of the larger creatures. 

Artemis rolled her milky-white eyes as she 'watched' their approach from a crossbow-lined balcony on the treehouse. "Predictable as ever, Stone. Max?"

"Yes?" Max looked up from the ground below where she'd been modifying one of Artemis' traps. She'd seen something similar done back in the mountain, and knew exactly how it could be improved. The Prescotts may have been monsters, but they knew their technology. 

"They're off to the east, coming in from the grove. Are you both ready?"

Max smiled, looking down at the panther coiled and ready beside her. "We are. Let's do this." 

The Offshoots, lacking the sense for tactics and unvalued by Stone as anything more than shock troops, never bothered to hide, or dodge. They simply charged straight for the grove. Artemis was unfazed and simply walked down the line of crossbows, firing quarrels into the horde. Many offshoots fell, but the mass simply kept coming. 

Neither Max nor Artemis expected otherwise. The quarrels were simply there to provide a first strike, and thin the enemy forces. 

As the offshoots got closer, they set off trap after trap. Barrels of strong chemicals exploded in bursts of burning liquid that stuck to all it could, logs fell and crushed offshoots beneath their mass, and... well.

They couldn't leave the critturs out of the fight, could they? 

Offshoots fell into concealed pits filled with fuzzles that promptly tore into the panicked food that had 'wandered' into their newfound lairs. Zappflies and stingbees buzzed through the trees, picking off whichever offshoots were unlucky enough to wander into their path. 

Several dozen managed to reach Max at the foot of the treehouse and, in response, she let the reins ono the Hunter go slack, just a little, using the control she'd learnt from her friend and mentor. 

They never stood a chance. 

As Max pushed forward, so too did Artemis' stronger animal friends enter the fray. Several Great Bears appeared from a dense grove in the midst of the horde, attacking offshoots with claw and bulk. From above, Hooter and a formation of owls dropped sharp and heavy rocks onto the heads of the offshoots below. Even a small formation of boars had come to help, gouging and tearing with their tusks as they charged through the enemy host. 

The battle was going immensely well, and so neither of the defenders realised that a new problem had arisen until it was on their doorstep. 

To either side of the main host, Stone had sent in the hounds as a flanked ambush. Amongst the Tak Hounds there were other beasts that Max had never seen before. Either they were new products of Ratigan's experiments, created in the months since she had left, or they were dangerous enough that the Prescotts had left her training with them until later. 

If Max's prior luck was any indication, it was likely the latter. 

The Tak Hounds howled, their calls causing as much pain in the nearby offshoots as in Max and Artemis. In response, Max ducked her head, and put in the two small cotton buds she had fashioned earlier that day. After all, if she could not hear, they could not hurt her. The painful screams were the Tak Hounds' only weapon. So, Max let herself be drawn away from the treehouse, trusting in her friend to protect their home, and the Hunter to protect herself. 

When she began cutting into the ranks of Hounds, the beasts did not know how to react. Nobody had been able to stand against them before. Almost a third of them fell before they broke ranks, yipping and barking in terror as they ran from the flashing blade. As they retreated, and their screams died down, the offshoots pressed their attack again, and a flood of them came at Max and Holly, both of whom were happy to greet them with blade and claw. 

Having run out of traps and crossbow bolts, Artemis leapt down from the treehouse and strode into the mass of Offshoots, swinging her sword gleefully as she cut down all before her. With Max and Holly's support, along with that of Artemis' animal friends, they began to turn the tide. 

Until a group that Max did not recognise appeared from the Horde. Stone and her Clan had come; the Sheriff had collected many brutish and violent companions to help her in her oppression, though none had the deadly skill of the Prescott agents they were dangerous in their own rights. 

Artemis, almost on instinct, found her eyes meeting those of her old enemy. The leathery-skinned old Sheriff grinned ferally when she spotted Artemis, looking forward to finally ending the threat the old Child of Ratigan posed to her rule. 

"Stone!" Artemis' sword never stopped moving as she called out her challenge, striding forward towards the Sheriff and her companions. "You got over your cowardice, I see. Finally willing to face me fairly, and in the open?"

The Sheriff's clan fanned out, targeting each of the animals Artemis had recruited. They cut cruelly into the fur hides of the bears, shot arrows through the wings of the owls. Even the critturs were not immune to their hard methods, as vials of acid were tossed into the fuzzle's pits. 

Artemis' face fell in shock and horror at the blatant cruelty, immediately rushing forward to save her friends. The Clan in its entirety met her charge. She put up a good fight, but she was cut down before Max could even close on the group. Like Artemis, she was blinded by anger, and when she finally did reach the clan, she wasn't even given the mercy of a quick death. They hit her to the ground, and left her in the dirt. Then, Stone raised a hand, pointing to Artemis' home. "Take it down." 

Max looked behind her in mounting horror as the treehouse, her sanctuary, and the one place she had felt truly at home in for three years, exploded. Her anger rose, not the familiar cold embrace of the hunter, but perfectly normal burning rage, and she charged towards Stone and her Clan, intending on revenge. She was quickly swallowed by the Offshoot horde as they pressed in at her from all sides, and she was even more quickly left unconscious. 

When she finally awoke, and remembered what had happened, both the Sheriff, her Clan, and her army, had gone. Max sat alone on the battlefield, and let her head fall in grief. 

*flashback ends*

He runs. Whimpers, too. The Hunter growls in satisfaction before I push it back down again. Not now. 

I reach into my satchel and pull out a boombat. The little furball giggles as I toss it under the generator. I leave the room and head back down the corridor, dropping boombats as I go.

The first one (temperamental little guy) explodes as I reach the end of the corridor, and the rest go just as I get back to the lounge room. 

Boombat fire spreads quickly and, by the time I'm out and on the road, the entire building is up in flames and the group from the motor pool are standing out the front yelling and cursing loudly. 

\--

I turned the corner of the Blackwell road at a full sprint, breaking to a jog when I spot silhouettes walking down the main stair. I focus on them, trying to stay to the dark and out of sight. 

I'm so intent on them, that I don't notice the other silhouette creeping out of the parking lot, and collide with it with a thunk. The other person gets knocked to the ground and... uh... doesn't seem pleased. I guess. He swears. Like, a lot. Without stopping to breathe, either. 

"What the fuck how fucking dare you damn fucking shit well do that you fuck..." 

I blink, half shocked, half impressed, down at Nathan Prescott, sprawled out on the ground. I reach out to help him up, muttering out "Oh dog, I'm so sorry, I di-" and stopping mid-word as he slaps my hand away with a growl and stands up on his own. 

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, and I frown as I recognise one of the calming, meditation-ish techniques that I had been taught to deal with the Hunter. 

Nathan's face flashes up and his eyes narrow as he spots my frown. "What the fuck are you frowning at, Island Girl?"

I shrug. "Nothing."

He eyes me harder, focusing on my face. It's weird, I feel like he's looking through me, but at me at the same time? "What're you doing out this late, Island Girl?" Before I can answer, his face twists and he suddenly asks "What the fuck was your name, anyway?" 

"Max." I say, still having no idea where this conversation was going. 

He nods, repeating my name to himself like he's trying to commit it to memory. "Max. What are you doing out this late, Max?" 

I shrug. "Just out for a walk." 

He raises an eyebrow. "A walk?"

Even I can tell he knows I'm lying.

But does he know that I know that he knows?

Calm down, Max. Don't overthink this.

I go with it. "Yeah. I like walking at night. It's quiet, it's dark." I pause at his expression. It's almost... empathetic? "People are loud." I offer, hesitantly. Maybe I could... make a friend here? Or at the very least, not make another enemy. 

Achievable goals, Max. Achievable goals. 

He frowns appraisingly at me again, then nods. "Yeah. They are." After another pause, he leans back, and his hands go into his pockets. "What did you do to piss Vic' off?" 

"Vic?" 

"Victoria. She really doesn't fuckin' like you." He tilts his head. "So what did you do?" 

"She doesn't seem to like that I go walking." I shrug, not bothering to hide the lie this time. If he picked up the last one, I'm never gonna get anything past him so why fucking bother. Hell, maybe he'll appreciate the reference. 

Turns out he did because, after a second where he gives me a dark stare, he grins. "Yeah, well. Vic' never did handle people well. Try not to piss her off more, okay? I'm the one that's gotta deal with it if you do, so..."

I nod. "I'll do my best. No promises. She's very... loud." 

The boy gave me another wolfshark grin as he walked away. 

I watch him disappear around the corner before my face splits into a strange smile. That was... He was...

Huh. 

I turn and I head off towards my room, no longer bothering to stick to the shadows. 

*flashback begins*  
She sat by the body for what felt like days. Artemis was gone. The accursed sheriff had seen to that. To her great shame, Max found herself slipping away too, once more giving herself over to the cold anger and primal fury of the Hunter. So, she gathered up her things, strapping her sword to her waist and the crossbow to her wrist, then headed out into the wild. 

The sun beat down mercilessly, as The Hunter walked into town. 

She came down main street, simply walking, making no more noise than would a gentle breeze. She never raised her voice, and never raised her sword. But anyone who saw the look on her face got the hell out of her way.

They knew someone was going to die that day, and it wasn't going to be them. 

Shutters closed, curtains were drawn, doors were shut and locked. The Hunter kept walking down the road, advancing toward the last house. Stone's place stood tall at the head of the street, a proud structure gifted to them by the Prescotts. 

She stopped, just short of the house, and looked up at it, all quiet-like. After a few moments, she calls out, and her voice carries across the town. "Stone! Sheriff Stone! Come out, come out, or I'll blow your fucking house up." Down. Max couldn't remember how the original line went, and the Hunter didn't care. Either way, she wasn't one to bluff. 

The silence after she finished speaking was palpable. You could cut it with a blade, if you were inclined to such.

Moments passed, and then more. Shutters opened throughout the town as curious Offshoots peered out of their homes to see if the Sheriff would answer the challenge.

And answer she did.

Suddenly, the doors to the Sheriff's house exploded open and a dozen men and women rushed out, and every weapon they carried was pointed at the now-smiling Hunter.

Her Prey had arrived. 

When her clan had assembled out into a semi-circle that spanned out to either side of the building, the Sheriff swaggered out of her home, a long rifle cradled lovingly in her arms. Her eyes, cats-irised, blinked in amusement at this... interloper that dared to challenge her in her own territory. "Ah. It's you. I remember you, failure. You were with the Old Bitch, up in that shack treehouse o' hers. How's the place lookin'? Get your friend buried yet?" She grinned around at her clan, and they shared in a perverse laughter. 

The Hunter stayed silent. 

Stone frowns. "So, what manner of idiot doin's brings you down here? What? You want revenge or somethin'?"

The clan are getting nervous now. Antsy. They shuffle about from foot to foot, and readjust their aims. The Sheriff's eyebrows bunch up, and she shouted out one last warning. "You wanna live, Failure, then you better get out of here. This is your last warning." 

The Hunter finally speaks. 

"No." 

She looks up.

"It's yours." 

The Sheriff and her clan all laugh at that. "Our last warning? We outnumber you, thirteen to one. What the fuck are you gonna do?" 

There was a beat of silence as they awaited her answer. None of them, Max included, expected... laughter.

Suddenly the Hunter's arm raised up and, before any of the Sheriff's clan can move, two bolts flash out and embed themselves in the eyesockets of two on the periphery. She spun around, tossing out four Stunkz that instantly envelop the clan in their potent clouds. 

The clan, instinctively or in panic, fire their shots. Most of them go wild, but two bullets scrape against the Hunter as they pass, taking a layer or two of skin with them. The Hunter spins out to the left as they fire another volley, missing her entirely in the dark clouds. She loads two stingbees, firing them into the right flank, and two more of the clan go down.

A lucky shot from the biggest of the clan, a tall, broad Offshoot with jet black skin and ears like claymores, hit the Hunter in the shoulder and went straight through. Her Blood Haze faltered for a mere second before returning, harder and more thirsty than before. Another two bees were loaded, and another two clan members fell. 

The cloud began to clear, and the Hunter could see the remaining clan take stock of their losses, and focus their sights on her. They seemed angry, but confident. She was within their sight, and far enough that she couldn't reach them before they could shoot. 

Or so they thought. 

She unclenched her fist, letting the crossbow disassemble itself on her wrist, and drew the sword. 

What happened next, none could really say. The Offshoots that bore witness claimed she moved like lightning, blinking from one spot to another as she swung again and again and again. Those that later examined the bodies noted that she never hit the same place twice. Her kills were inventive, stabbing into kidneys, slicing blood vessels; she even took the limbs of two clansmen. 

These men and women were all feared by all on the island, taking any liberty they wished throughout their reign of terror and pain, and crushing all who challenged them into dust, but they all fell, until finally, only Stone was left.

The Hunter didn't hesitate, raised her crossbow and fired a single bolt into the woman's lower spine, going straight through her belly to reach it. The shot left the Sheriff kneeling, holding herself up only by sheer strength of will; the sheer, stubborn grit that'd enabled her to dominate so much of this region. She laughed, a sound of perverse amusement, and spat out a gob of blood and bone.

The Hunter walked forward slowly, the Sheriff's feared enforces lying bloodied on the floor around her, and stops, just short of Stone, glaring down at the woman who'd killed her friend. She raised her crossbow, pointed it at her, but, at the very last minute, found herself hesitating. The shot had weakened her control, and left an exploitable opening. 

Max took it, and tried to fight back against the Hunter, begging it not to do this.

She almost succeeded. 

The sheriff cracked her neck and looked back up at her, still grinning, still bloody, still complete and utter fury. She spat out another gob of blood and growls "Do it you piece of shi--!"

*flashback ends*

\--

AN1 - I'm not sure if this is true elsewhere, but it is true in England. If you file a report for one crime, you can build up the case for a more severe penalty for later crimes, or even make a conviction more likely where it might not otherwise be. Hella unfortunate that this kind of thing isn't taken more seriously, but until it is we have to do our best to target the full might of the system against arseholes like these.


	16. Bone-Aching and Bone-Breaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter XVI: Bone-aching and Bone-breaking (Max/Chloe/Max) - Monday  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> AN:  
> Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
> 
> Sorry for the delay on last week's update. Being sick isn't exactly conducive to getting the creative juices flowing. Updated a couple extra things this week though, as an apology for missing last week. Also to try actually get these things moving a little more quickly.
> 
> Also, does anyone know a place where I can find out some more about agender/genderfluid people, or is anyone agender/genderfluid and willing to answer a couple questions? I have a couple of character ideas for my fics and, since I was just making them cis-het types with an agender nametag, which is pointless, I think actually learning more about the demographic might help get their backstories and experiences and such down. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ugh.

Dog, I hate Mondays now.

Rachel and Chloe had dragged me out to the Junkyard on Saturday afternoon, after I'd been out in Portland since class let out on Friday, and we'd stayed out until about thirty minutes ago when Rachel realised we had class. She strolled in, casual and graceful as ever, took her usual seat next to Kate and proceeded to scandalise the girl with all the 'hottest' gossip. 

I stumbled in a few minutes later, vending machine energy bar and energy drink clutched in my shaking hands, slumped down in the seat next to them and tried my best to stay awake. I could live with less sleep than them, but I still needed some. My weird mutant abilities ran pretty hot, and I needed a lot of energy to keep them all up. Hence the energy food I'd scavenged from a vending machine. The drink claimed it would regenerate some of the Neurotransmitters I needed to speed up my reaction times, for example. Right now, I was slightly weaker than the average human. 

When I'd sat down, Rachel had chuckled, and elbowed Kate for support in mocking my exhaustion. Kate, the sweetheart, had just given me a concerned look and asked if I was feeling unwell. 

I concentrated for a second, pulling together the energy to answer, but all I could manage was an irritated glare in Rachel's direction. When Kate's concern only intensified, Rachel just leaned in conspiratorially. I thought she was going to be reassuring. I really should've known better. With a wink to Kate and a leer to me, she quips. "She's more than fine, Katie Kat. Me and Chloe just, uh, kept her up way past her bedtime, the poor thing." Cue eyebrow waggle. "Not that she was complaining last night."

I groan, and let my head flop down. Rachel gives a wicked little chuckle, and a bright red blush immediately spreads across Kate's cheeks, and her eyes flick down to the table as she stammers. "O-oh, I... um."

Rachel cackles, and I get another burst of exhaustion. Or possibly frustration. She does take mercy on Kate, though, and explains the innuendo. "We just hung out too long over the weekend, Kate. Didn't get much sleep. Max just can't say no to me, right Max?"

I give another irritated glare, and give an eyeroll any middle sibling would be proud of. Rachel just smiles. "See?"

Kate is not convinced. "Rachel! Max clearly needs to sleep! You've got to let her do that!"

I raise a halfhearted hand in total fucking agreement. Dog, I needed to sleep. 

Rachel just bats it off, and rattles off another quip too quickly for my tired brain to pick up on. Even Kate's answer just passes me by, but not because I'm tired. 

"Wow." I look up to see Rachel peering at something over by the door. Following her eye, I see a thoroughly beaten-up looking Nathan Prescott glaring down anyone looking in his direction. When he spots me looking, he gives me an annoyingly appraising once-over, then proceeds to ignore me and shove his way past everyone to his seat. "He certainly had a wild weekend, hmm? He looks terrible, even for him."

His chair sends a loud clatter through the room as he slumps into it, and Victoria gives him an arch look. "Jesus, Nate. You look like..." She scans him once, up and down, then rolls her eyes. "I don't even know what you look like, but it's fucking horrific. What the fuck happened to you?"

His glare suddenly turns on her. Something in her face must've gotten to him, because the glare immediately softens. Not to normal, affectionate levels, but he didn't look like he was planning her murder inside his head anymore, so that's some progress. "Some fucker thought he could take me. I thoroughly disabused him of the notion." He grins, running his tongue along his teeth. There's a line of blood running in the gaps near his canines. 

Victoria turns up her nose, probably at the idea of fighting someone. I mean, she might chip a nail, dog forbid! Now that I think about it, it could also be the blood. After a quick murmur from her, Nathan wipes his hand across his mouth, and it comes away bloody. His teeth are clean now though.

Mostly.

He chuckles, and their conversation goes inaudible, even to my senses. I turn back in irritation to find both Rachel and Kate tilting their heads at me. "Uh, really focused there, huh, Max?"

I tilt my head right back. I have no idea what that means, and I say so.

"I don't know what that means." 

"You just spent the last..." Kate glances down at her watch. "Three minutes staring at Nathan Prescott."

"And more importantly," Rachel interrupts. "He didn't eviscerate you for disrespecting his family name!" A quick feline grin. "I think he likes you." 

I snort. "I'm new and unknown. I'm sure he'll work out how to bully me soon. Besides, aren't you curious? I mean, wowzers, just look at him. What the hell happened?"

Rachel and Kate both shake their heads. Very, very emphatically. "No thanks, Maxie. I like being able to sleep at night. Nathan can keep his crap to himself."

Kate quickly agrees. "Nathan Prescott does some very... strange things. I don't want to be a drama queen, but I'm way happier not knowing. You know?"

I shrug, and let it drop. With them, anyway. I needed answers. 

I spend the rest of the lesson sitting quietly, mulling over the possibilities, letting my classmates jokes and laughter wash over me. I'd run into him on Saturday evening, maybe Sunday morning. Had he been going to wherever he got hurt then? 

Eventually though, the lesson ends. Rachel and Kate get up from beside me, and the three of us start heading out to our next class. As I exit the classroom, I feel a gaze upon me. I turn, and meet the piercing blue eyes of Nathan Prescott. I shudder, and dash out as quickly as I can manage. I had no more classes today, maybe beating up some Prescott agents would help me forget that look. Hell, maybe I could even rescue some more people.

Helping was... nice.

\--

Ugh. I stomp out of the coffeeshop, leaving the jeering laughter behind me. "I have seriously got to stop telling them shit." 

Coffee of Doom. Pfft. More like... Coffee of... of... Fucking Nosy Bitches!

Yeah. 

That told them. 

I sigh. 

Fuck.

Gotta get home now, I guess. I growl down the street, glaring at whatever fucking assholes had the gall to get in my damn way. This main road no-parking bullshit hella sucks. I'm gonna be walking for... uh... 

I check my phone.

Twenty minutes! Seriously? Ugh. This is the last time I'm driving here. The bus hella sucks, but compared to walking? Cakewalk. I'll take the bus. Buses win every time. (AN1)

I tread along the sidewalk, hands in my pockets, beanie perched on my head, eyes on the ground. For a second, I think about lighting a cigarette, but fuck it. I can wait 'til I get to the truck. I stroll along, thinking about those bitches back in the coffeeshop, being hella stupid and ignoring everything around me. 

Which, like every fuckin' bullshit after school special out there predicted, is when shit goes down.

A hand suddenly flashes out of nowhere and grabs me, then pulls me into an alleyway. The guy holding the knife is flanked by two others; all three of them are hella scruffy-looking, dressed in thick jackets and, oh yeah, one of them is pointing a knife at me. Wait, no, they all have knives. 

Assholes.

I make hella sure not to make any sudden movements, and to keep my eyes on him instead of the knife. It's hard, and my eyes keep flicking back to the knife, but I keep eye contact. Mostly.

"Hey, dude. Calm down, okay? What do you want? My wallet?"

He grins. "Smart one, girlie. Hand it over."

I immediately toss it to him. That was one thing I listened to step-douche about when he insisted on rambling bullshit at me after I got this job. If you get mugged, you hand your crap over immediately. Heroes are just people who get other people killed. And since I was the only other person around, heroism was hella low on my list. 

Fortunately though, someone turned up who apparently disagreed with my definition, as a harsh and gravelly voice cuts through the silence in the dark alley.

"Get away from the girl." 

All four of us look over to see a short figure standing deeper in the alley. A short, cowboy-outfit wearing figure. I'm hella certain they weren't wearing spurs, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were. They even have a poncho. Who wears a fucking poncho? The stetson was pretty cool though, I'll give 'em that. 

The three dudes attacking me don't seem as impressed. They fan out down the alleyway, twisting their knives in front of them as they make hella lame threatening banter at each other. The cowboy person doesn't bat an eye at their threats. They don't even move. 

The three dudes continue on, though, closing quickly on the cowboy person. 

Oh. Cowboy Girl. No. Cowgirl? Either way, those're definitely tits. 

The second they get close, the cowboy-girl-person-thing explodes into movement. She spins outward, sweeps one guys legs out from under him, somehow gets him over her shoulders, and throws him into the other two, all without stopping the spin. The three idiots end up in a groaning pile on the ground. When one manages to wiggle free and re-grab one of the knives, she serenely raises an arm, and something on her wrist (is that a crossbow?!) launches at him. It suddenly bursts and the guy gets wrapped in a pile of webbing. With hella alarming calmness, she does the same to the other two, leaving them in a pile of web on the ground, then hops over them and walks over to me. 

She stops, just short of me, and there's a kinda awkward beat of silence where we just sorta look at each other for a while. 

Honestly, I was kinda terrified. She just took out three knife-wielding assholes in about that many seconds. Even now, just standing there and facing me, she looked hella dangerous. Her stance had that kind of solid balance martial artists had, and she was scanning the alleyway constantly.

"Uh. Thanks, whoever you are. Those assholes would've hella fucked me up, uh, if you hadn't come along. So..." She just stands there, staring. "Uh... yeah. Thanks for that." I breathe out deeply. Still no reaction from her. She might as well be a fucking statue. "Yeah. How did you do that shit? And what did you do to the dudes on the ground, with, like, the webbing and shit? Are you Spiderman?"

She tilts her head at that, like a curious puppy. "Spiderman?" She asks, and I am honestly shocked. Who the hell hasn't heard of Spiderman? Even people marooned on desert islands have heard about Spiderman! 

"I, uh..." There's more important stuff to deal with right now. "Nevermind. So, uh, do you have a name or something? You're wearing a mask, so I know better than to ask your name." 

The head tilt becomes more amused than curious, and I swear I hear a chuckle. I guess she got the reference. Who knows V for Vendetta and not fucking Spiderman? Seriously. "I go by Stranger." 

"Stranger?" 

She nods. "Like the cowboy movies?" She waves a hand vaguely downward. "That's why I'm wearing this." 

"Huh. On theme, I guess? I'm Chloe."

She nods again. 

Huh. 

Well.

Yes. 

Now what?

"Call the police. Report the attack. Tell them about me, or not, if you want. And stay safe."

With that, she turns to leave. I rush forward, reaching out to grab her arm. She immediately slaps it away, and bolt of pain that shoots out from where she hit me is startlingly strong. I flinch back from my saviour, grimacing. "Okay, no touching then. Sorry, I just... why did you help me?"

She shrugs. "Sometimes, everyone needs a little help. You needed help. I was in a place where I could help you. That's all." 

I watch her turn back away from me and fade away into the dark. 

As soon as she's gone, I take a deep fucking breath, leaning against the wall with one hand. Woah. That could've gone way differently. Coming down from an adrenaline rush is not fun. It's also distracting as hell, so when one of the unconscious idiots lets out a groan, I jump about 3 fucking feet in the air. 

Cops. Gotta call the Cops.

\--

Wowzers.

I get as clear of the alley as I can as fast as I can, and find a discreet wall to lean against while I hyperventilate. Chloe was almost... She could've... That was... And now she saw... And I had to...

Fucking.

Wowzers. 

\--

AN1 - This does not reflect the opinion of the writer. I like walking. Walking infinitely beats out the travesty that is riding the bus. Just seems like it would be a thing Chloe complains about when she's gotta do it, but secretly really enjoys it with company (a la Max and the Lighthouse Tower).


End file.
